LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Shelf j.Ji_3 Lt 



TNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 

I \ 



THE LEAGUE 

OF 

THE lEOQUOIS 



AND 



OTHER POEMS. 



FROM THE 



INDIAN MUSE. 



BY 

Benjamin Hathaway. 



Low in the sunset's waning light, 
Above the hungry roaring waves, 

I see, as with prophetic sight. 
The last of all the Hunter Braves. 

With warrior arm uplifted high. 
And crying to the Indian's God, 

With one long, last, despairing cry, 
He sinks in the devouring ^ood. 



7r 



^'=K 









All Souls, Itiowever Btnall or great, 
Through knowledge find their use and place : 
Make Thou, to oldea Crimea efface. 

This least return, O Sovereign State ! 
Unto a wronged — a noble Race. 



So shall they strong in Virtue stand, 
Your honored peers ; as wise, as free, 
As loyal, brave : — nor longer be 

But aliens in their Father-Land, 
But debtors to your Charity. 



€0PTBIOHTKI>, 1880, BT 



BENJAMIN HATHAWAY. 



TO MY WIFE, 



The Wife, if gifted in all household ways 
Where Home has fair its sacred altar reared, 
Is worthy of all praise — 
Aye ! 2)recious,far beyond all treasure, is 
The heart that makes the hearthstone love-endeared 
With gentle ministries. 



Yet how much more is honor due —if aught 
Be due to loye — to Thee — her, who like thee, 
In realms of Mind hath sought 
A ivider 2)rovince for her wifely part; 
Wife and Friend in one! — whose ministry 
Is to both mind and heart. 



Therefore the Poet brings this tribute meet; 
Trusting that Hope will true her promise keept 
Who in the noon -day heat 
Together stand to sow Lifers fallow lea 
With Thought and Deed, *- that they together reap 
The Harvest yet to be. 



INTEODUCTIOISF. 



IT is to the Mythologies of the primitive races that 
we are to look for the expression of the earliest poetie, 
religious and j)hilosophic thought of Mankind. 

While the Folk-lore of the Old World has long been 
made the subject of research and poetic elaboration, the 
Mythology of the North American Indians has received 
comparatively little attention. 

What the Eddas were to Scandinavian Europe; what 
the Greek Mythology was to the Hellenic mind ; what 
the story of Buddha, with all its clustering fables, is 
to Hindoo and Mongolian; what the teachings of Christ 
are to the Christian world,— the revelation, in some sort, 
of a divine love and M'isdom, around which gather the 
deepest affections, the purest hopes and aspirations of the 
human soul; — such, undoubtedly, were to the Red Men 
the body of their myths and legends, of which but a 
meager store has been left to us. 

There is in these fragmentary traditions abundant evi- 
dence that they are the architecture of a religion, apart 
of the world's sacred literature — the Scriptures of the 
Ages; scattered rays of Pivine Truth come down from 
above, clothed in such imagery as the then development 
of the Race made possible of apprehension. 



vi irTiioDrrTroN' 

In the broader li^liu of a universal ini.;i-;;retation we 
see in these legends the essentials of all Religious truth; 
the idea of God, of ininiortality and an eternal world; the 
recognition of good and evil; and in some form, however 
imperfect, the same injunctions and requirements that 
are the burden of the Christian Bible; and though their 
standard is not our standard, they show that even the 
Savage may perceive somov,!i.;t of tlie inevitable deformity 
of Vice and the infinite beauty of Virtue. 

Though in many forms and with a great diversity of 
detail, one central legend r.i:JjrI:L;s tho whole system of 
Indian Mythology. Under various names, r.s that of Mica- 
bou, Chi-a-bo, Manabo-zho, Ta-rcn-ya-".-a-go and Ha-yo- 
went-ha, are rehearsed the marv;->lous achievements of one 
and the same remarkable personage; the central idea in 
each being that of a Divine M:.::; or.3 of miraculous birtli 
and superhuman ultributes sent r.incng tho Indians from 
the Great Spirit. IIo rr.l:(]uc3 tho mcnstcrs of the forest 
and the rivers; he teaches the Red Men to use the bow 
and arrow in war and in the chase, to build their wig- 
wams, to grow corn and beans, and to b3 noble an.l brave. 

Whether or not, at some remote period, there existed 
among them one of wonderful powers, answering in any 
degree to the idea in the Indian mind, it is not important 
to inquire. That such was the fact seems not improbable, 
as will readily be conceded hy those who hold the belief 
in any divine interposition in the affairs of men. Those 
who accept the teaching that Christ had a divinely, ap- 
pointed . mission to the world, will not find it bard to 
believe that the Infinite would send a messenger -pf^ life 
and light to the benighted Children of the Wilderness as 
well as to the more enlightened Race, 



1^ 



iXTi: )::rrTio:N'. vii 

It would 1)6 interesting to point out t!ie coincidences 
between the miracLvs wrought by the Great Teacher and 
those ascribed to these Heathen Divinities. Christ walked 
upon the water; Ha-yo-went-ha's canoe went without 
paddles. Christ raised the dead; Manabo-zho had a like 
power over the ge-bi, or departed spirit. Christ multi- 
plied the loaves and fishes to feed the multitude; their 
Manitoes could create abundance in seasons of want. The 
parallel might be still farther extended; nor would the 
comparison make all the so-called miracles seem less, but 
more, as being the result of a universal law that makes 
like marvels possible, at all times, and among all men ; 
at least, — that causes like beliefs in them to take root 
among peoples widely diverse. 

In whatever light they may be read, these legends will 
have a growing interest, as being the only records of the 
faith of a fast-passing race; and as the truest index of the 
inner life of a people that possessed noble traits, which 
it will be well to remember and cherishv. 



If the White Race, possessed of all the advantages of 
civilization, are to be judged by their highest attainments 
in Art, Science, Literature and the noblest examples of 
character that they have developed, surely the unlettered 
dwellers in the forest should not be subjected to a more 
rigorous rule. If Cicero was in any sense the height of 
Rome, then the eloquence of a Gar-an-gu-la, a Sa-go-ye- 
wat-ha and a Sken-an-do should be taken as the measure 
of the Indian's intellectual attainments. The same rule 
should apply in regard to other qualities, as the love of 
freedom, the power of endurance, of self-sacrifice and 



YUl INTRODUCTIOK. 

These characteristics, that were so strikingly exhibited 
by the more warlike of the Indian race, and that were 
possessed in common by many of the northern tribes, 
reached in the Iroquois their highest expression and finest 
exemplification. 

" The Iroquois is the Indian of Indians," says Park- 
man. " In this remarkable family of tribes occur the 
fullest development of Indian character, and the most 
(ionspicuous examples of Indian intelligence." 

Previous to the discovery of the Continent by Colum- 
bus the scattered tribes had joined themselves together in 
k League of Alliance, the principles of which have been 
the wonder of philosophers, and with a governmental 
polity that has won the admiration of statesmen. 

Of the date of the confederacy of the Five Nations — 
the great Aquan-uschi-oni League — there can be only 
conjecture. The native historian, David Cusic, gives a 
chronology of thirteen successions of chiefs before the ap- 
pearance of the White Man. There is probably in this 
record an element of truth; all that is certainly known, 
however, is that these uncivilized tribes, banded together 
for a common end of protection and defense, and not 
always in accord, surrounded by other tribes more savage 
than themselves, with only the bow and arrow and the 
rudest implements of warfare, not only held together for 
hundreds of years, but steadily grew in strength, intelli- 
gjence, material comforts and social amenities. 

MX'Morg&n says, in his League of the Iroquois: '* They 
achieved for themselves a more remarkable civil organiza- 
tion, and acquired a higher degree of influence, than any 
other race of Indian lineage, except those of Mexico and 



IN^TRODUCTION. IX 

Peru. In the drama of European colonization they stood 

for nearly two centuries with an unshaken front against [ 
the devastations of war, the blighting influence of foreign 

intercourse, and the still more fatal encroachments of a ; 

restless and advancing border population. Under their j 

federal system the Iroquois flourished in independence, and j 

capable of self-protection, long after the New England and [ 

Virginia races had surrendered their jurisdictions, and ^ 

fallen into the condition of dependent nations; and they j 

now stand forth upon the canvas of Indian history, prom- \ 
inent alike for the wisdom of their civil institutions, their 

sagacity in the administration of the League, and their • 

courage in its defense," I 

Though to-day there remains only a remnant of the j 

once proud and powerful Iroquois Confederation; though • 

it paled and waned before the mighty tide of the White. ■, 

Toilers; it has left a name that shall not be blotted out. | 

while the love of liberty remains, and the voice of elp<R j 

quence has power to move the bearto of men, , ! 

In the following poem the writer has aimed to give, J 

in an intimately related series of pictures, the story, as j 

embodied in the Iroquois tradition, of the origin of the j 

Confederation, and especially all that relates to the part 
the great personage of Indian Mythology — Ha-yo-went- 1 

ha — took in the formation of the League; a league all 
the more wonderful, originating, as it did, among savage 
tribes, whose literature was confined to oral traditions 
and picture-writing; and whose arts were bounded by the . 

bow and arrow, rude stone implements, the dressing of : 

skins and their manufacture into clothing, and to the | 

growing, in the most primitive manner, of a few product^ i 

of the soil. 



X INTRODUCTION. 

Whatever of thought, of feeling or belief the author 
has embodied in the League of the Iroquois, he holds to 
be but the legitimate interpretation of the customs and 
legends in which he finds alike the subject for his pen and 
the inspiration of his Muse. If he has softened and modi- 
fied their forms as they existed in a rude barbarous age, it 
is but in keeping with a well recognized license, without 
which any original, poetic treatment of his subject would 
be impossible. 

Instead of following to the letter an}'' one form of the 
story, he has chosen rather to take from several their 
poetic features; or, when departing from them all, he has 
still endeavored to keep truo to their spirit, — to the 
highest concej^tions of the Indian mind. A::d that he 
might write a poem that sliould be reco<?nized as true 
to nature, not alone as the White Man understands 
nature, he has sought to invoke a Muse that could see as 
the Red Man saw. could feel a^ he felt; and that could — 
so far as the impediments of hmguage will ])ermit — in- 
terpret to us the facts and experiences of the marvlous 
world in which the Indian dwells. — one that will be found 
to be, nevertheless, a vei'y human world. 



CONTENTS. 



THE LEAGUE OF THE IROQUOIS. 

PAOK* 

Proem, 3 

The Fore- World, 9 

The Coming of Ha?o-went-ha, 27 

The Wondrous Deeds, 37 

Hayo-went-ha's Journeying, -..--- 49 

Song of Hayo-went-ha, 59 

Nyah-tah-wanta, 69 

The Wooing, 83 

Song of Nyah-tah-wanta, ... ... 97 

The Bridal, 105 

The After-Days, 117 

The Council, - - - - -. - - - - 135 

Speech of Hayo went-ha, 153 

IIayo-went-ha's Mourning, -.....- 163 

The League, 171 

The Feast, 183 

Hayo-went-ha's Parting Words, 195 

Hayo-went-ha's Departure, 205 

The Broken Heart, - - - - - - - . 215 

The Better Land, ....... 225 



Xll CONTENTS. 

WINONA. 
A Legend of the Mississippr, . . , , , 339 

THE GREAT SNAKE OF CANANDAIGUA. 

a seneca tradition. 

Origin of the Seneca Nation, . . - - - 253 

The Great Snake, ....... 257 

The Battle, - - 261 

The Victory, ..»,.,.. 266 

THE SHINING MANITO. 
Or the Origin of the Red-Headed Woodpecker, - 271 

THE FLOOD. 
Or Manabo-zho's Battle with the Serpents, - * 274 

ORIGIN OF THE RED WILLOW. 
An Ojibwa Legend, 278 

THE BEAR.WIFE. 
An Ai.GON<iuiN Legend, - . - . . - . 281 



ijONTENTSi xiii 



SHIN-GE-BIS. 

PAGE. 



A. Chippewa Legend, 



^ 



SPEECH OP ME-TEY-A, 

A POTTAWOTTOMIE ChIEF, 291 I 

THE LAST OF THE HUNTER RACE. 

Lament OF THE Indian Muse, 294 ^ 

Notes, - 299 

Vocabulary, 317 I 



^::;^'=2' 



PRINCIPAL PERSONS. 



PRONOUNCID 



NYAH-TAH-WANtA/AV-a7/-/^/5-«/d;«/'a.^ ) 



r The great Mythological 
Hayo-\vent-HA. (Hd-yo-went'-ha.) ^ Hero of the Iroquois. The 

I founder of the League. 

Smile of the Great Spirit. 
Bride of Hayo-went-ha. 

The great Mythological 
Hero of the Algonquins. 

Guardian Spirit. 

The Good Mind. 

The Great Spirit. 

A famous magician. 

Bride of Osseo. 



Manabo-zho. 


( Man-a-bo'-zho.) 


Manito. 


( Man-i-to.) 


Inigorio. 


( In-i-go'-ri-o.) 


OWAY-NEO. 


(O-way-ne'-o.) 


OsSEO. 


(Os-se'-o.) 


OWENEE. 


(0-we-nee'.) 



SciNE. Onondaga and the Lake region of central New York. 



THE LEAGUE 

OF THE 

IROQUOIS. 



S^enfrom afar the rude barbaric years 
Are dark with blood and rapine, wrong and crime, 

Wherein alone the Savage Man appears ; 
Yet near beheld, from the remotest time 

A human soul dtrelt in each stalwati form. 
And Beautg's smile a grace Jo Woman lent ; 

Throbbed human heatis with human passions warm. 
Though sheltered by the wigwam's barky tent. 



-J^aRis^.^ 



PROEM, 



No more — alas ! why still recall 
What to the Past must still belong ? 

No more — what other word can fall 
To make a fuller sorrow -song ? 

No more return the days gone by; 
The troubled winds, with ceaseless moan, 

In sough and sob, in wail and sigh, 
Still blend their anguish with my own. 

In vain the aching breast enfolds 
Each scene it may no longer see. 

Save that some drops of comfort holds 
The hallowed urn of memory. 

Though vain we mourn a glory fled — • 
The fairest forms no longer fair, 

A cheerful song for loved ones dead 
May win us from more fell despair, 
2 



PROEM, 

I thread the forest lone. I wait 
Where once 3^our sheltering wigwams stood, 

Bewailing your untimely fate, 
My People of the wild and wood. 

No more as in the olden days 
Shall here your hunter -bow be bent. 

Where, learned in nature's simple ways, 
You dwelt in lowly life content. 

fallen Braves I forevermore 
Yon crystal floods that leap and toss, 

Shall wail along their saddened shore, 
Deploring so love's olden loss. 

While rolling suns shall burn and glow, 
The seasons crown the waiting years, 

The fairest Summer's cheek shall show 
Some grief- betokening trace of tears. 

No pilgrim -wind that homeless sings 
But murmurs of departed braves ; 

No zephyr o'er the wild that wings 
But lingers by forgotten graves. 

Soft through the twilight's silver sheen, 
Methinks the glimmering stars above 

Far -shining in the blue serene. 
Bend low with pitying eyes of love, 



PBOEM, 

And often to my tearful eye, 
When yonder orbs grow dim and pale^ 

Tall, painted, sable forms go by, 
And on the night -winds shriek and wail. 

Oh ! dusky shades do verily haunt 
The failing ground on which I tread ; 

Or out of love's unweaning want 
Is born a semblance of the, dead. 

And once familiar voices call 
Sad as the night-bird's mournful cries, 

From out the hush at twilight -fall, 
Where prone each tented roof- tree lies ; 

Or where the latest watch-fire shone. 
Or plume -crowned warrior lingered last ; 

Where darkly rests each fading, lone 
Memento of a glory passed, 

Mementos ? — ah ! where shall I turn 
For relics of the things that were ? 

No fragment of life's broken urn 
Rests by each empty sepulcher ; 

Of noblest breasts beneath the sands 
Is left no monumental trace ; 

No grave-posts set by loving hands, 
No to -terns mark their dwelling place. 



PROEM, 

Ye lingering few who weakly stand 
Where strong of old your fathers stood * 

The rulers in a mighty land — 
Unmeasured leagues of wave and wood ! 

Ye proudly keep, howso bereft, 
Still of the bold heroic will, 

Though of that realm to you are left 
But narrow belts of vale and hill. 

Where once you bore the warrior -bow 
Or fleetly led the hunter -chase, 

Now, fate - constrained, 3'ou reap and sow — 
Now toil as doth the Toiler -race. 

If others plant on fairer wold, 
And harvest more of golden ears, 

I this recall, that they do hold 
The vantage of a thousand years. 

Though silent, yours a soul intense : 
Still is the dusky breast imbued 

With slumbering fire, whose eloquence 
Once thrilled the forest solitude. 

And when the thoughts that hold and thrall 
In other speech take form again, 

You, standing in the council -hall. 
Shall stir anew the hearts of men. 



PROEM ? 

Though war to-day could but degrade, 
Has lost for you its use and place, 

It was your warrior -bow that made 
You first among the Dusky Race. 

And though our shrinking souls abhor 
The cruel deed, the wild excess, 

The valor that is born of war 
Is kin to every nobleness. 

It was the foe, fierce, brave and strong, 
Who for your homes contending stood, 

That brought the need which wrought erelong 
Your mighty League of Brotherhood. 

And though it only lives in name, 
Or on the bold historic page, 

keep its bright, proud hero -fame 
Unsullied still from age to age ! 

And were it better so, did they — 
The fore -time virtues — still remain ? 

The virtues of one race and day 
May be another's vice and bane. 

Though nevermore to warrior bold 
Shall time renew each glorious deed, 

Still to the Bond in spirit hold. 
The precepts of its founder heed. 



PEOEM. 

On him to whom your lofty fame 
You owe, still let your reverence wait; 

Give honor due the noble name 
Of Hayo-went-ha, good and great. 

Among you as in days of old 
May love-inspiring chieftains stand ; 

Who wise the ancient lore unfold 
Hid in the sacred Wampum-band. - 

And what the Future hath in store 
I would not, if I might, divine ; 

Enough for j^ou, that evermore 
The Past all glorious shall shine. 

Wherein till Time's corroding hand 
Has made all valor^s records dim, 

The Iroquois shall proudly stand 
For daring deeds the synonym, 



THE FORE-WORLD. 



Vast yields unfenced save hy the purple round 
Of the high-arching heavens; the grand on-sweep 
Of rivers that far stretch from zone to zone ; 

Lakes wide out-reaching the horizon^ s hound; 
Hoar mountains tvonde)-- wrapped, sublime and lone; 
Woods that in wild unbroken beauty sleep 
Age unto age : — a fairer world apart ! 
Such, Nature building on her larger plan, 

With temples, altars, shrines surpassing Art, 
Was once the home of the Primeval Man. 



THE FORE-WORLB 



He that has stood with kindling eye 
Owasco's peerless blue beside, 

Looked on Cayuga murmuring nigh, 
On Canandaigua's tranquil tide, 

No more may wonder why to-day 
By their bright floods Tradition dwells ; 

By the clear springs of Seneca 
And Onondaga's limpid wells. 



To honor with just meed of praise 
All noble deeds, the ages wait ; 

Still from the Past some token stays, 
Some record lives of heroes great. 

Nor shall ye be of fame bereft, 
First on the bold Heroic Page, 

While to these lakes and streams are left 
Their names— your gift and heritage. 
3 



12 THE FOBE-WORLD. 

Yet who shall bring the vanished lore— 
Of other days the story tell ? 

Of days while yet their farther shore 
A¥here now the Pale -face strangers dwell, 

Was trod alone by dusky braves ; 
While yet the light canoe was seen 

Alone upon their smiling waves, 
And wigwams by their marges green. 

Though be my loss another's gain, 
What comfort to this anguished heart 

In boundless fields of golden grain, 
In smiling homes and thronging mart ? 

And turn I oft with longing e^^es 
From scenes the nearer vision sees, 

To those that far and dimly rise, 
And deeply cherished more than these. 

When all the plain was lapped in calm 
To where the horizon deepens down ; 

Serene embloomed in summer balm 
Or robed in autumn's gold and brown ; 

When stretched a broad unbroken wildl 
Far as the Morning's e3'e could trace. 

In nature^s beauty undefiled, — 
The Empire of the Hunter- race* 



THE FORE-WORLD. 13 



peerless realm ! of hill and vale, 
Of mountain, moorland, wood and glade. 

Traced only by the narrow trail 
That dusky moccasined feet had made ; ' 

Where many a smiling meadow shone, 
Fenced by the ether's purple ledge. 

With waving grasses overgrown, 
High - greening to the billows' edge. 



vanished days ! no more to be,— 
Days when beside these limpid springs 

Wide roamed the El]?: as fleet and free 
As though his very feet had wings. 

The MooGe his mighty antlers bore 
O'er pastures green with kingly rule ; 

The red Deer flocked each grassy shore — 
Stood mirrored in the crystal pool. 



What lime the patient Beaver wrought 
A type of noblest brotherhood ! 

As though his meaner soul had caught 
The vision of earth's highest good ; 

When through an instinct brute and dim, 
The dream that haunts the wisest sage 

To-day, was realized in him : 
Kude prophet of a riper age ! 



14 77/.? FORE-WOULD. 

When oft, us winter winds Avore chill 
And woke the Raven's croak and caw, 

Borne on the hhxst came yelpings shrill 
Broke from the Wolf's unsated maw ; 

As, trailing far some hapless Roe 
He circled on the panting beast. 

Wild calling through the drifting snow 
His f,llov,'^ to a common f?ast. 

What time the Tox, or late or soon, 
Far o'er the glimmering fields awa}^, 

Led forth her young beneath the moon 
To wily hunt the wary prey ; 

Or following wide, to snuff the wind. 
Of keener scent, in cunning deft, 

Her larger unloved kin, to find 
If latest surfeit something loft. 

Or, when sweet Shaw -0:1 -da- see drew 
Each pinion fleet from seas remote, 

Out welled from sightless deeps of blue, 
The Brand - goose clanged his harsher note 

The while each oft -returning spring 
The purple sea was softly pressed 

By gentle White Swan's snow}' ^^ing, 
Or daring Osprey's downy breast. 



THF FOBE-WORLD, 15 

When cloven by Eagle's Aviiig would break 
The far horizon's golden edge ; 

And noisy tell-tale Teal and Drake 
Quacked querulous through the reedy sedge ; 

Or woke a swift -winged clash and clang- 
As nigh the fierce -beaked Falcon flew ; 

While to the moon the Sea-ow^l sang 
His doleful note of — '' woo-too-Avoo." 

When not alone at morning blush 
The Shore -lark w^oke his piping shrill, 

But cleaved afar the sober hush 
Of falling twilight, piping still. 

Or slow along the river's brink 
The wide -winged Fisher darkened by; 

Or, where the blue waves rise and sink, 
Came up the Sea- crow's lonely cry. 

Or, dark from umbrage -shadowed spring 
At set of sun, the Bittern drew 

His sable -plumed nocturnal wing, 
Or woke his hollow — ''dun-ka-doo." 

Or, piercing far the dusky pall 
Of storm -bethreatening night, was heard 

The Loon's sad, ill -foreboding call — 
A lonesome, melancholy bird. 



16 THE FORE-WORLD. 

Slow -wading, bent on leech and frog, 
The Snipe clacked o'er the reedy moor ; 

The Pewit from the drift-wood log 
Sang "pe-wit" to the drowsy shore. 

While harsh and hideous unaware, 
The foolish Moor -hen screeched and screamed 

Till all the fowls of sea and air, 
From ugly contrast fairer seemed. 

Deep in the greening willows hid, 
Chief of the insect -minstrel throng, 

The solemn -trilling Katy-did 
Lulled the lone twilight hours with song. 

And all the night long twinkled bright 
The fitful Fire -fly's flickering lamp ; 

Or danced afar the fleeting light 
Of meteor from the marshy damp. 

While over all, night's mournful bird 
In plaintive numbers, wild and shrill, 

At eve or rising dawn was heard — • 
The sad -complaining Whippoorwill, 

No sound amid the sounds I hear 
At morning's flush or vesper's sigh 

Falls soothing on this listening ear 
As fell that long -lost lullaby. 



tSti rORE'WORLD. 17 

Yet not for Nature's loss alone 
I share in Nature's grief and tears ; 

Each wild beast fled or free bird flown 
Love's deeper loss the more endears. 

Each tenant of the woods and streams, 
Linked to a fairer glory fled, 

Unto the anguished spirit seems 
A portion of the loved and dead. 



Ere deep athwart night's sable gloom 
With flashing like a falling star, 

First broke the cannon's awful boom, 
Or venturous voyager's song afar, 

The while his white sail fluttered free, 
Or gay with moonlight silver furlfi4> 

Came o'er the softly -flowing sea 
Like whispers from the under -world j*^ 

Here by the flood the Dusky Brave 
Looked from his wigwam's lowly door 

To hear the sweetly vocal wave 
Low -lapsing on a quiet shore ; 

To see the days go tranquil by, 
The starry nights in peaceful rest ; 

As blest in Nature's lap to lie 
As infant 0^ its mother's breast. 



18 - THE KOni:-]VOTiLI). 



Ill simple lliouglit content, to him, 
Far -gazing from the grassy mound, 

The fading ether's silver rim 
But seemed the wide workVs outer bound. 

While in the high overarching dome 
A fairer land his fancy drew ; 

The noble warrior's Spirit Home 
Lay just beyond its wall of blue. 

Serene the radiant seasons wore, 
XJnstartled, save by rustling reed 

Touched by the zephyr's Aving that bore 
Fair Seg-wun o'er the springing mead ; 

As forth she came from sunset skies, 
Robed in a halo so complete 

It only showed to eager eyes 
The glory of her shining feet. 

Or if, perchance, a wilder moart 
Came o'er the water's sh:)rlowy gloom. 

As with an ill-forebodiiig tone 
The buU-rush waved its airy plume ; 

Or angry billows boisterous gre\v 
With chafing on the pebbly beach ; 

Or stormy winds went wailing through 
The cedars by the sandy reach ; — 



THE FOBE-WOJiLD. 19 

Or strange, unwonted sounds were heard 
Like spirits through the frightened air ; 

The cry of beast or scream of bird 
That sorrow's dim monitions bear ; ' 

Or tlirough the midnight wan and pale 
Sped angry meteors, ghiring red ; 

Or doAvn the gloom -emmantled vale 
Stole moccasined warriors' stealthy tread ; — • 

Or fiery War's dread rumor came. 
And on the sky fell i)ortents stood 

To kindle wide the battle -ilame, 
Uplift the war -ax, stained with blood ; — 

Here oft, with warrior -bow unstrung, 
He long on bear- skin couch reclined ; 

Nor heard in lays the wild winds sung 
The discord of the march of Mind. 

Or, as the long da}' slowly wore, 
With eager eye and wary tread, 

And feathered quiver's flinty store, 
Far followed where the w^ild deer fled. 

Or when, in hunter pleasures loose, 
The chase to frenzied passion grew. 

He fleetly tracked the flying Moose 
To hills beyond the farthest 
4 



THE FORE-WORLD. 

The while the matron's busy hand 
To beauty charmed the lonely day ; 

Glad toiling for her dusky band, 
And him, the hunter, far away. 

No needful labor held in scorn — 
Content to dig the fruitful plain. 

To plant ^ or pluck the ripened corn 
Or patient pound the golden grain. 

While tawny maids, from moon to moon, 
Sat in the rude tent's matted shade 

To Avork the fawn -skin beaded shoon 
Or weave the precious wampum -braid. 

Or glad, the frailer bark to run, 
Would ply their lu'own ai-ms, bare and stout ; 

Or hang the bear -meat in the sun, 
Or angle for the fickle trout. 

Or, as the sea a glory caught. 
Lit by the Leaf- moon shining late. 

Untouched of fear that sadly brought 
The dear Winona's darker fate, 

Enclasped by young brave's manly arm, 
By love enhaloed, long would rest 

In ])lissful dreams as wildly warm 
As dreams that baunt the fairest breast, 



^HE FOIiE-WORLDi 21 

And who shall say a meaner dower 
Had she, tTie dusky forest - child ? 

That on her lowly nuptial hour 
No sylvan Hymen sweetly smiled ? 

To lend for every pain and strife 
Love's all -enduring recompense ; 

Robe with content her ruder life 
And garland it witli innocence. 

If all unlearned, not vainly learned : 
From primal household ways unweaned, 

The woman but the woman yearned, 
The maiden to the matron leaned ; 

To know the rarest joys that be 
For hearts that simple loves suffice ; 

In marvelous mother -gift to see 
The heaven that is in baby eyes. 

With tiny feet along the sand 
When summer's balmy breezes blewj 

Would childhood roam its fairy land, 
With cheeks like autumn's ruddiest hue , 

That in the sunlight ripened free 
To maiden charm or manly grace ; 

Nor marvel that I fail to see 
The fairer in the paler face. 



22 TUF. FORE-WORLD. 

Unfettered grew each tender thought, 
To it no task -time came to vex ; 

Nor Art her robe unseemly wrought 
To mar and outward symbol sex. 

Yet beauty shines through all disguise 
Unconscious of its loveliness ; 

And Nature's child is simply wise 
In Virtue — all untaught (^f d/csn. 

Not in the garment'^ fold or braid, 
Nor in the outwa-rd form or f.ice, 

The heart by tender pascion.? swayed 
Has rarer gift of charm and gra,CL^ 

In voice t!ir.t v/o!:e i:i gentler tone, 
In petted wolf-cub s',vcet caressed, 

In nameless winsome Avays outshone 
The woman i:i the maiden breast. 

Or on each face with sunshine dyed. 
When wandering on the dreary fell. 

The growing flush of manly pride 
Would manhood's eager life foretell ; 

As in the instinct of his race 
And native health's exuberant glow, 

He mimicked wide the hunter- chase. 
Or twanged the mimic warrior -bow. 



THE FOBE'WORLD, 23 

Or, as to riper years he grew, 
His hand from meaner toils aloof, 

He builded fit his bark canoe, 
Or wove the wigwam's reedy roof. 

Or when the solemn midnight hour 
Shone red, with blazing camp-fires lit, 

He led the dance where strength and powei 
Are firm in limb and muscle knit. 

Or, more his greatening heart to show, 
Would eager hunt the prowling bear ; 

Or chase afar the frightened roe 
Or panther to his lonely lair. 

Or boldly on to strife and din 
Of war's wild turmoil, unafraid ; 

If only so to woo and win 
The beauteous, dark -eyed Indian maid. 

Still growing childhood meets my eye 
With faces like the drifting snow ; 

The tread of tiny feet go by. 
But not the tiny feet I know. 

And happy voices, glad and gay. 
Soft murmur like a rippled sea ; 

But only wake the memory 
Of silent voices dear to me. 



24 THE FORE-WORLD. 

Though still I see fond yearning eyeS 
Full-brimming with love's tender bliss, 

No other orbs so fair ma}^ rise 
As hers that lit the wilderness. 

And mid the throng, that onward bears 
With hurrying like the hurrying waves, 

No manly form such greatness wears 

As slumbers in the olden graves. 

***** 

By wooded hills and greening vales 
That more the mournful Past endears, 

I con the half-forgotten tales, 
Time-worn and blotted all with tears. 

Of chieftains brave, of warriors bold ; 
While to my deeply-visioned ken 

All forms — the best beloved of old — 
That fairer Fore-World throng again. 

Of maidens smiling as the sun 
By home-bright tents that glimmering show; 

Of painted braves that leap and run 
Or fearless draw the warrior-bow. 

Of youths with fiery hearts and great 
Who win the hunter's proudest fame, 

Returning from the chase elate, 
Full-laden with the hunter's game. 



THE FORE^WOnU), 20 

Rejoicing in their liaj^py lot, 
They tell of all adventures bold ; 

Or, every pain and care foi'got, 
To hearken to the legends old, 

They ronnd the winter-iireside sit ; 
To list, perchance, the aged sire 

The story tell of him that lit 
The Onandaga Coniicil-fire. 

And if my Harp I wake for him 
Whose fading memory still delays ; 

And darkly spell the record dim — ■ 
The record of departed days ; 

Wherein is shown, with little art, 
The greatness of his fame and deeds ; 

Nor record less of hninan heart 
With human cares ;md human iieeds ; — 

Xq vain reno\Mi I seek to win 
For one of more than mortal birth ; 

But only do I strive therein 
To more exalt the noble Avorth 

Of him the Red Man loved the most ; 
Of him I loved — still love no less 

Mid Owayneo's Shining Host ; 
And so would prove love's worthiness. 



26 



THE FORE-WORLD. 

Whom most we love, the strong or great 
Or wise or good or beautiful, 

For whom we strive, for whom we wait 
To make life's crowning glory full, 

We all exalted souls would move 
To love — nor make love's virtue less ; 

That so, through love these too may prove 
Their own all heights of nol)leness. 

Love ! however nruc-h i-s left 
In thee, love cannot cancel pain, — 

Sad solace of a heart bereft — 
Nor build the vanished years again, 

Nor swiftly-lai)sing life renew ; 
Yet will I turn the fading Page 

Once more ; once more, and then adieu, 
A last adieu — thou Primal Age. 



THE COMING 

OF 

HAYO-WENT-HA, 



Of every good the soul may Jcnoia 
Its aspiration is the seed; 

Thefloivers ofhliss that sweetest hlow 
Spiingfrom a yearning human need ;^ 

What destiny, love longing waits ^^ 
The all-requiting Fates prepare ; 

The key to all the heavenly gates 
As in the heart's unuUered prayer. 



THE COMING OF HA YO-WENT-HA. 



While yet the rising clays Avere tew, 
And deeds of wonder had not grown 

Too strange and marvelous to be true,— 
So all infrequent and unknown ; 

While yet in wood and waterfall, 
In wild waves' toss, in winds that blow ; 

In cry of beast, in free bird's call 
Was heard the voice of Manito ; 

While yet in river, lake and sea. 
Oft heard in summer's twilight calm, 

Rude-floundering, dwelt great Unk-ta-he, 
The Nee-ba-naw-baigs laved and swam ; 

And everywhere b}' vale and hill. 
In rock and tree and floweret fair. 

Some spirit dwelt of good or ill — - 
Some spirit of the earth or air ; ^ 



so THE COMING OF HAYO-WENT'tlA, 

While yet departed shades that roam 
Or in more subtle forms abide, 

Shades that alike in shadow-gloam 
Or noontide sunshine darkly hide, — 

All shapes that are, were seen to be ; 
Shapes robed in light whose forms of air 

Our duller eyes no longer see, 
Though thickly thronging everywhere ; 

While yet to many a kindling eye 
Fair in the sunset's painted show 

Low bent the Spirit's Home, so nigh, 
It glimmering seemed to faint and glow ; 

So nigh that you might hear the call 
Of long-departed braves, or stand 

High on some mountain ti'ee-top tall 
And climb into the Better Land ; 

Or far, with wondering sight, behold, 
Lit by the ether's fiery bound. 

Where dwell the mighty warriors old. 
The fairer woods and Hunting Ground ; 

Or see beyond the cloudy rack, 
Through many a purple rift and rent, 

Just by the day's departing track, 
Great Inigorio's shining tent ; ® 



k 



THE COMING OF HAYO-WENT-HA. 31 

In that far time — how long ago ? 
What matters if 1 may not tell 

How many suns ? — enough to know 
That of a truth it so befell : 

Of greatest deeds the world hath known, 
Of hero-fame the most sublime, 

The unremembered years alone 
Have record : — in that far-off time. 

From Tsles beyond the bound of day 
Where dwells the mighty Wa-zha-wand, 

A magic Chee-maun, f;ir rwaj^ 
Wide-parting from the Shining Land, — 

A magic Chee-maun, winged with flame 
And light and fleet as morning sun, 

Swift o'er the flashing billows came, 
Xor paddle had — nor iieed of one. 

And Him alone it lightly bore, 
Bright speeding on the foaming flood, 

Him — from that far-off fairer shore — 
Him, Hayo-went-ha, great and good ; 

Low-journeying from Love's radiant place 
The people of the Avild to bless ; 

His brethren of the Dusky Race^- 
The dwellers in the wilderness. 



32 THE COMING OF HAYO-WENT-HA, 

Alul who may say, as on he drew, 
He saw alar a glory shrined ; 

Nor that his heart turned, yearning, to 
A greater glory left behind ? 

However it be, still on he held ; 
While on the tide a splendor shed 

That frail canoe, as self-impelled 
And like the dawn it onward sped» 

And on — and on — -and still away. 
And still away — and on, and on ; 

He passed the doorways of the day, - 
The gateways of the setting sun ; 

And still away it eager pressed, 
More light mid fleeter than the swan 

As if the sea with loving breast 
Would bear the precious burden on. 

Near b}' enchanted shores lie drew, 
Saw Avhere the dread Magicians dwell ; 

But felt no fear, for Avell he knew 
Nor wicked art, nor wizard spell 

Had power to harm ; his clearer eyes 
Saw medicine for every pain ; 

Saw that on faithful souls and wise 
They wrought their evil charms in vain. 



THE COMINQ OF UAYO-WENT-HA. 33 

Or night or day, still on — the same 
Where'er he willed ; nor turned aside 

When, barring all the way with flame, 
He far the Fiery Serpents spied ; 

But loud he cried, as drawing near, — 
"Behind you look ! !" — with frightful cry, 

They darted back their heads in fear ; 
Swift as the wind he passed them by. 

Exulting o'er the Reptile race,. 
With strength he strung his warrior^bow, 

Approaching nigh the horrid place, 
Though fierce they hiss and writlie and glow; 

From out his quiver's full suppl}' 
He forth the magic arrows drew; 

Them one by one he straight let fly 
And all the flaming serpents slew. 

Touched with his bark the shadowy lands 
That bound the terror-gloomed abyss, 

Where Chebia-bos faithful stands 
Betweerl that ftiirer world and this, 

The passing soul to lead and guide 
Far-journeying unto regions blest — 

Beyond the realm of darkness wide, 
The Better Land of peace and rest. 



34 THE COMING OF HAYO-WENT-HA. 

Swift over crystal seas he sped, 
AVhere thick is strewn the rocky floor 

With bones (^f all the countless dead, 
That, passing, sank to rise no more ; 

Though threatening far the billows toss. 
His Chee-maun smoothes each angrj' wave ; 

The good alone can safely cross 
The floods that niortals all must brave. ' 



Still on — till many a land he saw 
Witli seas; and mountains looming large ; 

While many a s^warthy brave, in awe 
Gazed wondering on that fleeting barge ; 

And still away it tireless bore 
On stormy- waves or jieaceful deeps. 

Till light it pressed tlie i_)^l)bly sliore 
Where Onondaga traiK^uil sleeps. 

Mild shone the kindling summer sun. 
Fell soft the vernal breezes bland. 

The tide in silver ri[)ples run — 
Low murmured, lapsiug on thf*- >',im\ ; 

More radiant afar im rolled 
The widening sea with bi Ho w}' crest,. 

As shimmering in the sunset gold,. 
liike rubies flashed, eack dimpled crest. 



THE COMISa OF IIAYO-WENT-UA. 35 

Glad verdured sinilc'd tlie wooded liills 
With many a grassy intervale ; 

Bright interlaced with sparkling rills 
And crossed by moccasined hunter's trail ; 

The home of many a swarthy band 
Afar the greening valley showed ; 

And seeing such a goodly land, 
He, Hayo-went-ha, there abode. 

His Chee-maun, blest of Manito, 
That paddle-bearing h;in<l h.id none, 

But swiftly Oil the billows drew 
AVith liim who liglitl}^ willed it 0:1, 

That bore him from the Shining Land — ■ 
From r.ir beyond the halls of d.13', 

Thence drew he on the pebbh' sand 
And hid from cnrions eves awav. . 



And braves whose sight for joy was dim 
Looked on him with a glal Mirprise ; 

With friendl}^ speech tlicy welcomed him 
The noble stranger, good and wise. 

In him they saw, foretold of ol<l 
In fable, oracle and song ; 

The chieftain great, the warrior bold. 
The leader they had waited long. 



36 THE COMING OF HAYO-WENT-HA. 

He that, with more than mortal arm, 
With more than mortal strength to do, 

Would shield them hence from every harm. 
And all their dreaded foes subdue. 

Who calling forth each scattered band, 
Would them unite, them lead and teach, 

Until unto remotest land 
The greatness of their fame shouUl reach. 

• 
Inwoven with its destiny 

There comes a great Ideal Man 
To every race ; whose prophecy 

Afar the waiting years fore-ran. 

Such to the wandering tribes was he ; 

The long-expected Fatherhood 

They found in him ; the friend to be — 

The bringer, he, of every good. 

If in the cloudless realms of light — 
In heights, transcendent heights above, 

Is One whose love is infinite, 
His wisdom boundless as his love ; 

Shall he not all his children heed, 
Still mindful of their lightest quest ? 

And of Himself, as is their need, 
Reveal unto the lowliest ? 



THE WONDROUS DEEDS. 



He that would lead a samye Race 
Must he himself a sarage ; nay ! 

Be on the ivar-path, in the chase j 
In all things mightier than they. 

What knowledge, virtue else hath he. 
In worthy work — deeds nobly done — 

He best may teach men quick to see 
The meaning of a battle iron. 



■•^« JI/M/6f$;?^^#^'^*/<<^ 



THE WONDKors DKEDS. 



With c'.eerful, labor-beiiriiig luind 
And with an art unknown before. 

Or only in that Better Land 
Away beyond the morning shore, 

Where rose Yo-non-to near and hirge 
With Onondaga murmuring nigh, 

He built his wigAvam on the marge, 
A royal wigwam, wide and high. 

Far in the I'enland, toiling long. 
He felled the 1 irches where thc'y grew : 

Thence with a Avilling cirm and strong 
He forth the waiting timbers drew ; 

And them upstanding, straight and tal 
Together firm inweaving, lie 

Wide stretched and battened over all 
The bark of many a birchen tree. 



40 Tin-: u'oXDRors deeds. 



And pitieiit wruuglit lie miiny a day 
With sin.nv-striiig and bark}' thong ; 

With hjop and seam and stitch and stay, 
Intent to make it firm and strong ; 

Until at length, his labors o'er, 
As in the v.'igwams whence he came, 

Bnglit by the Onondaga shore 
He lit the Home-lire's sacred flame. " 



Of heart of ash-tree, stout and true 
He skillful shaped the hunter-bow ; 

He wove the trnsiy cord that drew, 
Fro n sin^'w of the fallen roe ; 

With far-resonnding blow and dint 
Ho agate from the quarry broke. 

And cunriing shaped the stubborn flint 
Witli steady hand and patient stroke. 

Of rude unshapen stones he brought 
From out the deeply-cloven ledge, 

He many a rocky missile wrought 
AVith glistening point and keenest edge , 

He fashioned straight the sharpened shaft, 
With point of jasper ; to the string 

Made fit the arrow's shining haft 
A ncL, plumed it from the eagle's wing. 



the; wondrous deeds. 41 

Then from his Meda^sack he drew 
AH things that bear a secret charm 

Of all their potency he knew — 
Their power to harm, to shield from narm ; 

Adorned with beak and claw and shell 
His weapons all ; — with wizard skill 

Wrought into each the magic spell 
That fateful is for good or ill, ^ 



Or resting from his ruder toil, 
He carved and shaped the pot and bowl, 

His soup to warm, his meat to boil 
Aud make the wigwam comforts whole ; 

Or forth he went with shaft and bow. 
And m:iny a hairy skin he bore 

Of Yek-wai and of 0-kwa-ho, 
And softly matted all the floor. 



To charm and guard his home and place 
Its barky sides he pictured fair 

With to-tems of his name and race ;" 
Where fierce the Tortoi:se, Wolf, and Bear 

High on its matted cover shone ; 
Each type and symbol, such as thence 

The greatly wise may draw alone 
The mystery of the liidden sense. 



,^^ ^'^^' yV ON DUO US DEEDS. 

Then to the wild he stalwart bore 
His mighty bow : his shaft released, 

Swift-speeding, lo ! all red with gore, 
Down-bellowing fell each ugly beast. 

Uno-wul in his horny shell 
Low on the sand and bleeding lay ; 

Great Yek-wai, mortal wounded, fell, 
The lofty-antlered Me-sha-way. 

When Kwaii-0-shaish-t:i, pi-o\vling near, 
And hissing like a roaring blast. 

Of all th- Liud the scourge and fear, 
With scaly feet went writhing pa.^t, 
. With flaming eye-balls glaring red. 
With fiery tongue that fn'Iced drew,^ 

A hideous serpent, hug.^ and dread ; 
His shaft (he frightful inonster slew. '^ 

Still far his pointed inissiles sped : 
The Be-zhu hushed his awful roar. 

The 0-kwa-ho the Ka-ka fed — 
His hungry howl was he;u-d no more ; 

Kwan-Ruu-ge-a-gosh on tlie tide, 
Great Ke-ka-daw-nong on the sand. 

Him yielded all their life and died,— 
^he monsters of the sea and land. 



THE WONDROUS DEEDS, 43 

Still loud his flinty arrows clank, 
Still woke the shriek of d3'ing'pain, 

Till farthest hill and valley drank 
The Blood of many a dragon slain ; 

Each ugly beast, with cry and roar. 
That crawled or ran or swam or flew, 

Fell — reeking red with dying gore — 
Fell darkly pierced, through and through. 

He slew the frightful Flying Head, ^'' 
The foe that most did them appall ; 

And them tli.it on t' People fed, 
The Stonish Giants, fierce and tall ; ^"^ 

Save ()]ie that fVor.i sich w.Lnior brave 
Swift oVr the kind did flee away 

Far to the south ; there in a cave 
Deep in the earth is hid to-day. 



AVide ])urne ;;.; on the winds amain 
AVeiit tidings of his name and fame ; 

Till from the wood and from the plain 
Afar his taAvu}' people came 

AVith hearts elate, intent to know 
The growing wonder, — learn with awe 

The mystery of the hunter-bow, 
And how to hold, and how to draw. 
7 



H THE WONDROUS DEEDS^ 

And stronger waxed the hand that drew ; 
And all the new-born eagerness 

For knowledge unto knowledge grew ;- 
They more desire who more possess. 

The}^ saw in arrow speeding straight, 
In flinty war-ax winged in air, 

A prophec}' of nobler fate, 
And burned all noble deeds to dare. 

From Inigorio the Good, 
Gifts brought he from that fairer shore 

Unto the People of the Wood ; — 
Some token of the love he bore 

His children of the forest-wild ; 
That they who dwell in shadows dim, 

Him knowing more who on them smiled. 
Would more delioht in love of him. 



And Hayo-went-ha, toiling long 
Beside the Onondaga strand, 

With patient hand, for labor strong, 
Clove wide the forest, cleared the land ; 

And pondering Avise the mystery, 
The wondrous secrets unrevealed, 

Of life that is — of life to be — 
He mellowed all the waiting field. 



TPE WONDROUS DEEDS. 45 

Then forth the sacred parcel drew ; 
And in the ground he careful laid 

The seeds of harvests strange and new; 
And when had sprung each shining blade, 

He round it pressed the mellow loam ; 
Not doubting when the days were full — 

The Moon of Falling Leaves had come, 
To see the ripened miracle. 

And tending all with ready arm, 
He saw the summer wax and wane^; 

To pull the weedy spears that harm, 
Or water oft the parched plain, 

He came and went with tireless feet ; 
Hope-girded all the field he trod, 

Till glad he plucked the kernels sweet 
From Scho-ta^sa-min's wondrous pod. 

And ruddy-ripe o'er all the land, 
Fair in the autumn's windy days. 

He saw great 0-nust lusty stand ; 
He rudely stripped the mighty Maize 

And home the luscious treasures bore 
To serve the stormy winter's need ; 

Or fairest ears did careful store — 
The future harvest's prjecious seed. 



4^ HE woNDiior I ^;;i-\%v. 

With 0-kwa-lio from farthest wood, 
The Me-sha-way with antlers wide, 

The Yek-wai fierce, so fat and good, 
The snowy Wau-bos, tender-eyed ; 

With many a bird that ran or flew, — 
The Ta-wis and the Oghk-we-se, 

The So-ha-ut, of sable hue, 
The Ka-ka and the Kwa-ra-re ; 

With many a fowl that clanged tb.e spring 
The quacking So-ra from the brake. 

The Wau-be-zee with downy wing. 
The honking Wa-wa from the lake ; 

Great Do-di-ah-to from ihe deeps, 
The Sa-wa from the shallow waves, 

Kwan-Run-ge-a^gosh — he that leaps 
And flounders in Ihc^ water v ciives : 



With flesh cf fish and bird and beast 
That round the fire hung reeking red, 

Of savor sweet, a royal feast. 
With many a pot full-steaming, spreaxl 

He, Hayo-went-ha, good and wise. 
For theirs, his loving people's sake ; 

While wonder widened in their eyes 
To taste great 0-nust's smoking cake. 



THE WONDHOUS 2>EEDS. 4T' 

What time was spread the banquet there 
He loosed for them his lofty speech ; 

He wide outspread his weapons fair, — 
Told of the make and use of each ; 

And of the Maize, its growth and worth ; 
The treasures of the fruitful soil ; 

How all the bounties of the earth 
But waited on the hand of toil. 

Then to the feast. But ere he drew 
Or parted bone from bono, cr broke 

The luscious loaf, or tasted stew, 
He, rising, to his people spoke : — • 
^'0 Brothers ! the Great Spirit, He 
These presents brings to those who wait 

To do his will ;" — then reverently 
Gave thanks to Ovvay-neo Great. ^"^ 

Then unto warrior, chief or brave, 
Of meat or bread or fowl or fish 

He, as their rank, in order gave, 
Refilling oft each empty dish ; 

Or from the embers, glowing hot, 
He cake of 0-nust smoking bore ; 

Until was emptied every pot, 
Or eating, they could eat no more. 



48 THE WOSDIiOVS DEEDS, 

The banquet done, on grassy plain 
To chant and song the dance began ; 

Each artless maid, untaught to feign — - 
To wait the proffered hand of man, 

Unskilled to hide what Nature gave ,— 
The heart that lit her virgin breast. 

Herself to him, the favored brave, 
She proffered with her modest quest. " 

In beaded costume fine arrayed, 
At beat of drum and rattle-clang, 

Stood forth each waiting forest maid, 
Quick forth each youthful warrior sprang. 

Now up, now down, now fast, now slow, 
With measured time and agile pace, 

Their lithe forms swajing to and fro 
A wonder showed of supple grace. 

And so he taught them — not in vain— ' 
Of every good of labor born. 

Till shone afar each hill and plain 
With teeming fields of growing corn. " 

And often to m\" ear there come 
Glad murmurs of the after years — 

Of happy maidens bearing home 
The burden of tjie ripened ?ar3, 



J 



H AT O - W E N T ■ H A ' S 



JOURNEYING. 



'^^, 



WJio journeys far hi Icnoivledge yrowSj 
If wise, to wisdom more attains; 

The more the outer world he knows 
He more the rarer vision f/ains — 

The hioivledge of the world irifhin; 
He clearer sees with deeper l-en 

That human souls are all akin, 
Though dicerse are the lires of men. 



HAYO-WENT-HA'S JOURNEYlNa. 



His Chee-maun, blest of Manito, 
That paddle-bearing Land had none, 

Yet swiftly on the billows drew^ 
With him v/ho lightly willed it on ; 

That bore him from the halls of day i 

Acro.3S the shining seas n::knc)wn, \ 

He hid from curious eyes aw^ay ; — j 

Kept for its nobler use alone. | 



Yet oft, when in the rising dawn | 

He saw Yo-non-to looming large, 1 

That bark, from secret place withdrawn^ 
He brought unto the waiting marge ; 

And parting from the kindling shore 
As with his quickening spirit rife. 

It Hayo-went-ha proudly bore, — j 

Went speeding like a thing of life. 
8 



52 jJAiv-n'jiyT-HA^ii joiuneying. 



On Onondaga's dimpled breast, 
The limpid wells of Seneca, 

(^aynga's floods it lightly pressed ; 
Where Skaneateles' ripples play, 

W liere Canandaigna's billows toss, 
On bright Owasco, blushing blue, 

•Oneida fleeting far across, — 
Still on that magic Chee-maun drew. 

To where the Mohawk's rushing tides 
By vaster woods and mountains flee ; 

Or where the wider Hudson glides, 
Goes hastening to the briny sea ; 

Still seeking far, or strange or new, 
A fairer land, a brighter bourne, 

Fled wonder-winged that light canoe 
Like arrow from the bow of Morn. 

And swifter than that barky barge 
Went tidings of his name and fame ; 

And to the Council flaming large. 
From far his tawny j^eople came 

With hearts elate, intent to know 
The growing wonder ; learn with awe 

The mystery of the hunter-bow, 
Aiid how to hold, and how to draji^. 



HAYO'WENT-HA^S JOURNEYING. 53 

Still unto wider seas away: 
Ontario's swelling tide he tracked , 

Heard great Ki-ha-de's *' E-wa-yea ", — 
Looked down the thundering cataract ; 

And mute with reverence, bowed in aw^ 
Before that wonder strange and new, 
-'He veiled his face, as there he saw 
Theform of Mighty Manito. 

Confessing so the human need 
Of love that is to worship grown, 

Untaught in ritual and creed 
Him to behold, the Great Unknown 

No less the lowliest adore ; 
Who most on Owaj^-neo call 

Do bear the likeness more and moriB 
Of Him, the Mighty over all. 

Still on — away : more noisy break 
The ripples on the flowing marge ; 

Till gleamed his glory-bearing wake 
On stormy Erie, foaming large ; 

On — past each headland, island, bay;— 
AVherever rose a goodly land 

AVith dusky warriors painted gay, 
He drew ]m Chee-maun on tlie strand. 



54 hayO'Went-ha\s journeying. 

He shared with them the banquet spread 
Around the camp-fire bhizing high ; 
He far for them his arrows sped^ 
. He slew the monsters prowling nigh ; 
■ ' On him — such might}' deeds he wrought 
They wondering gazed in fear and awe ; 
. While of the hunter-bow he taught 
Them how to hold and liow to draw. 



, And thence again went speeding o 
Till Gritche Gumee's silver smiles 

Shone beauteous in the setting sun, 
With widening shores and shining isles. 

There, where the angry billows roll, 
With Art that time's corroding mocks, 

He pictured many a curious scroll — 
His to-tems — on ihc l)eetlin<r rocks. 



Vast rumors all the forest stirrea 
Of Him, — and still the wonder ran ; 

He far the welcome greeting heard — 
*'Ta-ren-ya-wa-go ! — Mighty Man \ \" '' 

And though a race untamed and rude. 
His manly speech, with wisdom fraught, 

Allayed the while their fiercer mood ; 
Himself, in teaching, something taught. 



1 



HAYO'WENT-HA^ S JOURNEYING. 66 

Still on : — like rising morning ray 
That Chee-maun lit the parting tide ; 

Still toward the sunset land away — 
On Es-con-aw-baw rolling wide ; 

Still on — to many a stranger sea :" 
Wherever most might knowledge loose 

Her sacred seal, or glory be — 
To widen life in Love and Use. 



Thence, on the billows rolling large. 
By reaches wide of wave and wood, 

Returning where by pebbly marge 
His chosen People waiting stood, — • 

He, coming to his home and place, 
Trod proud the Onondaga shore ; 

While rarer shone his Prophet-face 
By wisdom's sunlight brightened more. 

Again Avith mighty speech he drew 
The dusky tribes, to teach and bless 

Till great the Onondaga grew 
Renowned for every nobleness ; 

And many a wandering band had heard, 
And many a warrior-chieftain came 

To hearken to his wiser word ; 
Still bearing wide his name and fame. 



They glad a willing ear to lend, 
He taught them of all things that are : 

Of life, its duties, aim and end, 
And of the Spirit Land afar ; 

The land beyond the starry dome 
Or where the sunset-glory smiles ; 

Of Oway-neo's Shining Home, 
Of Inigorio's Happy Isles. 

And not unmindful of his fame 
That brightened like the morning-rise, 

Him Hayo-went-ha they did name— - 
The wisest he, among the wise. ^^ 

He, growing, not alone did grow 
In wisdom ; but more nobly great, 

He grew in love, such love as know 
Immortals that ou mortals wait. 



Nor less revered the primal law, 
Nor less the human want confessed ; 

But felt the tender yearnings draw 
That sway and bless the lowliest ; 

And in his wigwam, day by day. 
Sighed o'er the Yong-we's vacant place ; 

Or from his deeper thought would stray 
To rarest radiant maiden fage. 



hayo-wext-ha's journeying, 57 

nobler Soul ! that glory fires,. 
High summering on the hills of fame, 

Within a deeper breast aspires 
And glows love's rapt, undjdng flame ; 

How frequent to thy vision starts 
The dearer light of loving eyes ; 

Thou hidest in thy heart of hearts 
The burning wish that never dies-, 

For dearer than all precious store, 
Or pride of station, name or race,- 

Or warrior-fame, or wisdom's lore,. 
Were wifely smile and matron grace ; 

The pretty darling's winsome ways, 
The pattering of the tin^^ feet. 

To while and charm the lonel}^ days- 
And make the wagwam's joy complete. 

Though greatly wise to teach and bless, 
And first in Council-place to move, 

Knew he the yearning need no less 
Of gentle Yong-we's heart of love. 

More sweet the home-delighting tone 
Than far-resounding glory-call ; 

Woman ! thou art great alone — 
Dost reign supremely over all. 



68 HAYQ-WENT-HA^ S JOURNEYING, 

The mighty yield alone to thee, 
Their proudest gifts on beauty wait ; 

And Oway-neo's Prophet he — 
He, Hayo-went-ha good and great, 

Would woo and wed a mortal bride ; '° 
Low in a Avorld with sorrow rife 

Would all the after years abide ; — 
Would dwell content in lowly life. 

Human Heart ! — the heart Divine 
Too hath its anguish to confess ; 

Yon radiant sun must burn to shine ; 
And in the heavenly realms no less 

Some loss the price of ever}^ gain ; 
Clothed with this frailer being, so 

To medicine our mortal pain. 
Immortals taste of mortal woe. 



SONG OF HAYO-WENT-HA. 



What time the Wa-wa's honking clang 
Betokened glad the quickened gear^ 

The mating hirdft their camis sang^ 
Far tJtrough tlie forest ringing clear;— ^ 

Oft he that bore a prophet-heart , 
WKen lore had touched its deeper spring^ 

Some tender lag, with simple art, 
Unto his homely pipe would sing. 



And I — unforgotten days ! — • 
Will bring to charm my deeper pain 

Some fragment of the olden lays : — 
Will wake that woodland lute again. 



SONG OF HAYO-WENT-HA, 

He is greatest who is Avisest, 

Love replies : 
Not enough for Hayo-went-ha 

To be wise ; 
What ])y precept, my Peopled 

I can give, 
Have I taught you ; by example 
Would I teach you how to live. 

He that wisest is is greatest : 

Yet on all, 
Howsoever high or lowly, 

Sorrows fall ; 
To be great is to be lonely ; 

Where is she, 
Lovely Kax-a, beauteous maideu — 
Hayo-went-ha 3 bride to be ? 



62 



SONG OF HAYO-WENT'hA, 

I have heard him — Mud-je-kee-wis — 

When he came 
From the mighty Es-con-aw-baw 

Of the plain, 
Telling of the brave Dacotah's 

Daughters fair ; 
And me thought — does she, the beauteous, 
Hayo-went-ha's, vv^ander there ? 

Nor less famed is the Ojib-way 

Maiden, she 
Dwelling by the Gitche Gumee's 

, Farthest sea. 

But 1 mind me, all things distant 

Fairer show ; 
Lofty Yo-nond's glittering summit 
Nearer seen, is only snow. 

Though the far-off beauty lieckons 

Like a star. 
Oft we miss the good that might be, 

Following far ; 
Oft the flower sweet opening for us 

Loving eyes, 
All unseen, though close beside us. 
Fragrance-laden blooms and dies. 



SONG OF HAYO-M^ENT-IIA. 63 

Nor what time unto llic sunset 

Land I strayed, 
Saw I ever by the wigwam's 

Mat and shade, 
Maid, that bearing meek and fitting 

Maiden's part, 
Would — the bride of Ha3'o-went-ha— 
Gladden more ].:.; hor.ic^ j.iid heart. 

What i i to the meadovr oeg-wun's 

Warmth and light, 
Fair Wo-ne-da softly shining, 

To th3 night, 
Would the ehcerl'rJ smile.5 of Vong-we 

Ee — mine own ! 
To the heart of Ha^'O-went-ha — 
To l.:s wigvram Avaiting lone. 

What unto the bow that draws it 

Is the string, 
String jind bow unto the arrow — 

Everything ; 
What i ; each unto the other, 

Such are ye, 
Shaped and wrought, Man and Woman ! 
To one use and destiny. 



6ri i^(K\'''i (>.'•' //.i VO-WENT-HA, 



Owci3'-iieo, Thou ilie Mighty 
High aljove, 
Hayo-went-ha's hope is only 
In th}^ love ; 
Thou alone canst yield the dear one 

To his sight ; 
Let thy wiser spirit lead hini — - 
Lead his wandering steps aright^ 

NoAv I mind me of a maiden, — • 

So they say, 
AVhe\^ Tio-to softly murmurs 

All the day 
To the sighing, sad Ogh-ne-ta 

Greening there, 
Dwells the beauteous Kax-a,— she 
Kyah4ah-wanta, good and fair. 

C'h how oft some chiefest hlessing 

We go Ly, 
Never even of it dreaming^ 

Though so nigh ; 
Till some happy hour reveals it, 

When we say — 
Not— ''Thou Oway-neo blessed !" 
Only this — "A happy day/' 



SONG OF HAYO-WENT-HA, 65 



In the foregone time of fasting, ^^ 
Whence 1 drew 

Smile and blessing of the mighty 
Manito, 

With the wisdom of the Medas 
Did I see 

Far the vision of the future — 
Vision of the days to l^e. 



See in mystic light that l)rightened 

All the land, 
Every people, tribe and nation. 

Clan and band, 
That far Council-fires should beacon, 

Not in vain ; 
Painted warriors, armed and girded, - 
Mighty chieftains, battle-slain. 

And above the cloud and darkness, 

Clang of War, 
Savv" T one serenely smiling 

Like a star ; 
And the more that dream I jjonder, 

More, meseems, 
She, Ti-o-to's lowly maiden. 

Like that maiden of my dreams. 



66 SOXG OF HAYO-WENT-HA, 



Once again, as in the vision 

Her I see 
Bearing all love's toil and labor 

Cheerfully ; 
Break the sticks and patient bear them 

From the wood ; 
Build the fire, make bright the wigwam, 
As the forest-maiden should. ^^ 



Or when Seg-wun from the South-land 

Far had come, 
Tending glad the corn upspringing, 

Stir the loam ; 
Or in days the Falling-leaf Moon . 

More endears, 
Pluck the mighty Maize at harvest — 
Bearing home the ripened ears. 



And the maid, Nyah-tah-wanta, 
Dwelling nigh 

Where Ti-o-to's billows, chafing, 
Moan and sigh,- 

She the bride of Hayo-went-ha . - 
Who may tell ? 

She is of my noble People — 
Ongue HojsrwE — that is well. 



SOXG OF HAYO'WENT-HA. 67 

And I mind me — I remember 

It was she 
Wove the royal robe and mantle, 

All for me ; 
And with sign, device and symbol 

Wove it fair, 
With the to-tems of my Nation — 
With the Tortoise, Wolf and Bear. 

And I think me of tlie costly 

Wampnm-band ; 
Of the snovv^y leggins, beaded 

By her hand ; 
Of the moccasins in whose stitch is 

Many a gem ; 
Strange — so often times to see them,— 
Only now the glittering hem. 

And a marvel more I ponder — 

Sj I deem ; 
As if still her gentle fingers 

Pressed the seam. 
Many a wonder I — can it be so ? 

I have thonght 

Something from the hand still lingers 

In the work the hand has wrought. 
10 



SOXa OF HAYO-]VENT-HA. 

As we feel the coining sorrow 

Deepen down, 
Mark Avitli tears the boding shadow 

Fateful frown, 
Hapl}' so a joy may brighten 

Far awa}^ 
Like the faint auroral shining 
Of the yet unrisen (^m\. 

And i > this exultant, throbbing, 

Glad unrest. 
All this tumult new of passion 

In my breast. 
The fjiint motions of a rdpture 

Yet unborn ? 
But the dawn with eagle-pinion 
That so swift outruns {\q morn ? 

He, Kee-way-din, sofily whispers, 
Wandering free, 
"Sweet the maid Nyah-tah-wanta '' 
Unto me ; 
And the charming maid to morrow 

Will I see 
Well, if she be Hayo-went-ha's ; — 
If she be not — let it be. 



NYAH-TAH-WANTA. 



Daughter of the paler -face, 
With heauty garmented ! Not less 

The damsel of the Dusky Race 
Js clothed upon ivith loveliness. 

Nor unadorned of simple Art, 
That heightens more each virgin charm; 

Nor less her breast, ivith Woman's heart 
Yearns, — throbbing ivith love's pulses warm. 



J 



NYAH-TAH-WANTA 



Nyah-tah-wanta — fair and good 
Was she, tlie warrior-cliieftain's child ; 

And never maiden of the wood 
Did brighten more the forest wild ; 

None bear the charms more modestly 
Of sweetly-budding womanhood, 

Nor worthier of love than .'he, 
Child of the bold, heroic blood. 



As one bereft when yeirs were few, 
And taught a widowed knee to climb, 

She thoughtful- wise and pensive grew, 
As shadow of a sorrow-time 

From out the unremembered years, 
Or wraith of love's forgotten kiss, 

Still burdened with unfallen tears 
Those lids of liquid tenderness. 



72 XVAlI-T.l//-\VAXrA. 

Her voice was like the wooing Spring, 
Her clieek like Autumn's bronzed light ; 

Her tresses lilve the Raven's wing, 
Her eyes w'ere like the brooding night 

With 0-jis-hon-da shining through,— 
Some brightness that j^ou might not guess ; 

For when you saw you only knew 
You saw a brimming tenderness. 

light in shade ! land of dreams ! 
Deep in those darkened depths impearled, 

As when Wo-ne-da's silver beams 
Soft-mantle the nocturnal vrorld. 

No garden lilies undefiled, 
No sweets their fragrance may possess, 

Surpass the roses of the Avild, 
The beauty of the wilderness. ^' 

Nor in all outward charms alone 
She grevv% as grows the woodland flower ; 

Though nurtured in the forest lone, 
And with the forest-maiden's dower 

Of ruder toil and sorest need. 
So schooled was she to do and Ijear, 

That her to know, you knew indeed 
That one so good must needs be fair. 



NYAH-TAH- WANT A. 

In snowy kirtle tasseled gay, 
And furry mantle quilled and dyed, 

Her hand had wrought so cunningly 
From many a Jit-sho's furry hide ; 

In scarlet leggins fringed with blue, 
In painted moccasins beaded grand, 

You would have thought her— as was true- 
The comeliest maid in all the land, 

Though well she knew to plait and braid, 
And skilled to make or cloak or gown, 

The richest robe that her arrayed, 
The beauty that is beauty's crown. 

That does the fairest best adorn. 
Was hers in wigwam-tented wood : 

The common virtues — lowly born, 
Of simple, modest maidenhood. 

When on the greening wild away 
Her lightsome footsteps flitted free. 

She seemed a joyous forest-fay — 
A dusky woodland-ftiiry she ; 

And more the while the happy maid. 
When gladness w^oke her simple art, 

Went singiug through the windy glade 
The gon^s that fluttered at her heart, 



74 NYAH-TAH-WANTA. 

What time her virgin footsteps pressed 
The border-hind of Womanhood, 

When wakes a longing in the breast, 
When stirs a spring-tide in the l)lood, — 

When grace beyond all manl}^ grace 
Unto the maid the lover shows, 

While unto him the maiden-face 
With splendor passing beauty glows ; 

She that the Meda's secrets knew 
Of mystic dance and chant and song, 

Could presage read in bird that flew, 
Knew all the use of fasting long,^ 

Invoking so, or strong or weak, 
Powers that the will of mm await, 

As 3'outh and maiden may, did seek 
Some token of her happier fare. "'' 

And of that dream ? — it is not new,— 
The charm all maiden liearts do own ;. 

The presence on her vision grew 
Of one, nor haply ail unknown ; 

A warrior-chieftain ; on his breast 
He proud a royal mantle wore : 

Well pleased she saw the shining vest, 
But nobleness enrobed him more. 



Bright in tlie sunset's fLiding flame 
Stood pictured on the farthest sky, 

With to-tems of liis race and name. 
A shining wigwam, Vv^de and high ; 

And on its glowing sides were shown 
All birds and beasts — all symbols whence 

The greatly wise m-iy draw alone 
The mj'stery of the hidden sense. 

Slio felt I'la tan'.ler yearnings clravr 
Thab hiiov/ nor color, clime nor race ' 

And from tho parted door she sav/ 
Love beckon from her v,\;iting-pl i:e :'-^ 

Oh ! sweetly b:hone tne coach and mat, 
For such a manly form was there ; 

And in the ilre-light, smiling, sat 
A little maid, — and all was fair. 



And still the j'ears new ])eauty lent : 
In cheerful toil that glad beguiled 

Her maiden cares, she came a:±d went, 
Far-brightening all the lonely wild ; 

Her sire, as she more lovely grew, 
Oft musing with a fiither's pride, 

Said — ''He must noble be and true 

Who seeks niv darling for his bride."* 
11 



76 NYAH-TA H- WANTA^ 

And many a j^outliful warrior, gay 
In paint and plumes, her hand had sought^ 

From lodge and wigwam far awa}^ ; 
As braves that come to woo, the}^ brought 

Of furry skins and wampum-braid, 
The costly gifts of forest-art ; 

Such as might win the forest-maid — 
Might charm and win the maiden heart. 

But not for him from stranger land 
Did she the wedding feast prepare ; 

Oh ! not for him the maiden hand 
Her raven tresses braided fair ; 

The while she crooned this little stave, 
Crooned to her waiting heart, meseemed ; 

''Oh, he is bold ! Oh, he is brave ! 
But not the Mighty that I dreamed.'' 

And oft Tio-to's breast would show 
Her barky barge that lightly pressed ; 

While from the glassy pool below 
She drew 0-nox-a's scaly breast ; 

Or patient fixed the tempting bait, 
Or watched the Sah-wa softly draw, 

Or cast the deeper line to wait 
Great Po-di-ah-to's hungry jaw, 



NYAH-TAH-WANTA, 77 

And oft when Seg^Avun bright again 
From far with shining feet had conae, 

She took great 0-nust's precious grain 
And hid it in the fruitful loam ; 

Made mellow round the rising spears, 
Or watered oft each springing blade, 

Or joyful plucked the luscious ears, 
As meet and ht for Indian maid. " 



Or when the Falling-leaf Moon hung 
Far-silvering o'er the rustling reeds, 

What time tlie Blackbird blithely sung, 
Elate of all the ripened seeds ; 

Where bending many a snowy head, 
Afar the wild rice waving stood, 

She in her Chee-maun lightly sped 
To gather its kernels ripe and good. ^' 



And oft from ruder labor freed, • 
With glowing cheek and eager tread 

She wandered o'er the grass}^ mead 
To pick the berries ripe and red ; 

Or through the brightening woods Avould roam, 
When woke the autumn's Avindy lays ; 

From thence the brown nuts bearing home 
She hoarded for the wintry days'. 



78 JS'YAH-TAll-WANTA. 

Or patient wro Light with pride and skill 
Her moccasins of rare design ; 

With bead of shell and hedge-hog quill 
Her fawn-skin kirtle broidered fine ; 

That at the dance or Council-place 
She too might stand all fair arrayed, 

With heightened heanty's charm and grace 
As best befits the Indian maid. 



Or Avhen from far with shaft and bow, 
From Avood and wild, the hunters came 

With Me-sha-WMy and 0-kwa-lio, 
A-meek and Yek-wai — noblest game, 

With ready hand and maiden pride 
She deftly stripped e.ich ugly beast 

Of furry skin or hairy hide, 
Cooked fit the meat, and spread the feast. 

What time, on many a darkened day, 
The braves and warriors, glory-crowned. 

Came bleedijig from the battle-fray. 
Her gentle fingers dressed the wound : 

With tender care and cheerful smile 
She charmed each aching bruise, nor vain 

Out-watched the paling stars, the Avhile 
She smoothed and soothed the couch oi' pain. 



NYAH-TAH-WANTA. 79 

If by lier side, with fear and pain 
She saw at whiles pale Famine stand, 

When failed the harvest-promised grain, 
Her field laid waste by hostile band, — 

She careful eked the failing store 
In ways but woman can devise ; 

With patient trust her hunger bore 
And all heroic sacrifice. "'' 



Above the spring-time floods that rise, 
The Musk-rat builds his winter tent ; 

So to the forest-maiden's e3'es 
And mind another sense is lent ; 

To see beyond each fleeting form, 
Of all the changeful seasons send, 

In wind and rain, in cloud and storm, 
What these ma}^ omen and portend. 



Though all unlearned in lettered lore, 
She all the forest secrets knew ; 

Of every beast the cry and roar, 
Tlie call of every bird that flew ; 

She heard anon, without aff'right, 
Th3 Be-zhu's mimic scream of woe ; 

The Jit-sho 3'elping through the night, 
The fiercelv-howlinsf 0-kwa-ho. 



BO NVAH-TAH-WAXTA, 

The Wa-wa honking on the lake^ 
Far on the wave the lonely Mahng, 

The So-ra quacking in the brake, 
The stormy Key-oshk's noisy clang ; 

The Wa-won-ais-se's plaint and cry, 
The great War-Ke-neu's screech and squall, 

0-nie-me's plaintive moan and sigh. 
The Ko-ko-ko-ho's lonely call, 

KneAv every bush and shrub and tree, 
The flowers that blossomed in the wood ; 

All herbs, and what their potency, 
And which was ill and which was good ; 

A part of all she S4\y so i;ear, 
In Nature's heart so immanent, 

Uuto \\ev liner sense and ear 
All thin:>s their deopcM* meaniug lent. 

Does He. whose mighty power bestows 
The life of all, great VVa-zha-wand, 

Crown with his larger bounty, those. 
From these \yithhold witl; stinted hand,— ^ 

The tribes and races of niankind ? 
Bear one a blessing, one a curse ? 

Or only do we fail to find 
The measure ujeet for gifts diverse p ^'' 



XVA H- TA H-n 'A XT A . . 81 

The greater dole might him upbraid 
For hirgess that brings duller sense ; 

For every gain a price is paid, 
For every loss some recompense ; 

He that with visioned eye may see 
The shadow of a darker fate, 

Fore-kens the brighter days to be 
No less, — and is content to wait. 

And many a suitor bold and free 
Had with the summers come and gone ; 

She only said — ''It is not He ; '' — 
Still patient waited for her owi: ; 

Nor somber sat as one forlorn, 
Nor gave to pining sorrow loose ; 

For what have they of cause to mourn 
Whose days are girt with love and use ? 



Her hands were quick to gentle deeds, 
She tended kind her failing sire ; 

She minded all his little needs, 
She brought the sticks, she built the fire, 

She cooked his meat, she made him warm, 
On her his tottering footsteps leant ; "^ 

For him she braved the raging storm 
And sweetened all with meek content. 



82 XYA II-TAIl' MANTA. 



gentle Heart ! thougli unconfessed, 
By purest maiden passion stirred, 

How liad it cliarmed that yearning breast- 
The little song that late I heard ! 

That eye had lit more softly warm, 
That cheek had owned a deeper glow. 

That beauteous, lithesome maiden form 
Had trembled like the frisfhtened roe. 



Nor is there m:iid, methinks, so cold, 
If she should know at dawning light, 

That ere Wo-ne-da's silver fold 
Shall press Yo-non-to*s breast to-night. 

Some wooer great would come to woo. 
That she, perchance, would bo his bride. 

But would her bosom flutter too — ■ 
Her glowing cheek blush, crimson dyed. 



THE WOOING. 



Oh! who with tongue so eloquent 
To paint the rapture lore distills, 

That Jills the spirit's grosser tent 
With breath front the Immorial Hills ? 

Passion ! — that is all replete 
With deepest bliss, ivith direst woe, 

Thy thrall, thy thrill, thy madness sweet, 
The heaH must, throbbing, feel to know. 



THE WOOING. 



More beauteous in the dawning light 
Shone Hayo-went-ha s prophet-face, 

As smile of Oway-neo bright 
Had lit anew each manly grace ; 

His brow of worthier purpose showed, 
His eye of feeling's kindling ray ; 

His very step, as forth he strode, 
Was lighter than of yesterday. 

His every care, his every thought, 
As in the greatening morn he stood, 

Was with Nyah-tah-wanta fraught. 
The flower of forest-maidenhood. 

How much may yearning wish impart 
Of hopes that after-harvests glean ; 

And much I trow his manly heart 
Did to that gentle damsel lean. 



86 THE WOOING. 

In ro3'cil inimtle rich arrayed,^^ 
Tliat lieiglitened mere his manly air, 

That showed, in many a to-tem hraid 
Inwove, the Tortoise, Yv^olf and Bear ; 

In moccasins with tlie marvelous hem, 
In snowy leggins bended grand, 

Enwrought with ni:iny a curious gem,. 
He trod the Onondaga strand. 

And forth that Vv'onder-built canoe 
From out its secret pi. ice ho hroughi, 

Unto the pclddy m;ir<;e lie drev/^ 
The bai'k by mystic fingers wrought ; 

That, as of old, did gTtily ride^ 
The rippled wells, nor overv.'ori]. 

Though it luid crossed t>-e swelling tide 
From Isles beyond the Gates cf Lloru. 

As though it felt love's eager luiste, 
Its barky sides more lightly pressed, 

The flashing waves more f.eetly traced, 
To bear him on his loving quest ; 

To far Ti-o-to l)ear him hence 
Swift as the Wa-wa'» wing and liglit, 

Before the westering sun should glance 
His arrows from the rocky height ; — 



THE n'OOING, 87 

To where beside the emerald flood. 



And radiant as the rising morn, 

Stood beauteous in her maidenhood, 

Stood mid the summer's springing corn 
The loveliest of forest maids ; 

To careful pluck tlie weedy spears, 
Make mellow round the rising blades ; 

Glad counting on th.e ripeiied ears. 



As frequent to eiich tender breast, 
Or whence or wherefore all unknown, 

Will come a trouble and unrest, 
A tearful sorrow, not its ov\ai, — • 

So oft above or thought or will 
May soar the spirit glad and gay, 

Its pulses feel the joyous thrill 
Of other heart-be:it far awav. 



And to the maiden where she stood. 
The flitting zephyr's soft caress, 

The dewy, newly-burgeoned wood 
Seemed burdened with a secret bliss ; 

The tiny throats that warbling sang, 
More thrilling melody expressed ; 

Kor knew she, while their matins rang, 
The deeper chord was in her breast. 



88 THE WOOING. 

To grow great 0-iiust's luscious grain, 
The care and labor all her own, 

With but the love to soothe her pain, 
Of him her sire, so feeble grown ; 

If lonely oft with aching breast 
Her lowly couch she weary sought, 

The tired limbs more sweetly rest 
In slumber whence new strength is wrought. 

Her might no evil omen dread 
Nor joy-betokening prophecy 

Lure from the path where duty led 
Her Avilling footstep's day by day ; 

Still round the hills upspringing green 
She softly drew the mellow loam ; 

While brightened more the morning sheen, 
The morning sun still higher clomb. 

And still her j^atient hand she plied ; 
Nor left her maiden-toil to make 

Her face more seemly when she spied 
That stranger Chee-maun on the lake ; 

Nor yet incurious, bending low. 
Nor quite suppressed a chastened eye ; 

The while her cheek a warmer glow 
Emmantled fair, she knew not why. 



THE WOOING. 89 

Aud Hayo-went-lia, ere he drew 
That magic Chee-maun on the strand, 

When rose the Avigwam full to view 
And all the love-enchanted land, 

To see the maiden bending thex'e 
Her greening corn to tend and keep. 

To mark the damsel's frugal care, 
His heart did in his bosom leap. 

And when her lowly door beside 
She looked on him who waiting stood 

With noble look of manly pride, 
Him, Hayo-went-ha, great and good, — 

She felt again the yearnings draw ; 
And in the sunset's failing gleam 

She knew the chieftain-form she saw 
AVas he, — the mighty of her dream. 

And seeing near the mantle rare, 
The mantle she had wrought for him. 

The beauty she had woven there, 
The moccasins with the beaded hem, — • 

The woman in her bosom stirred 
More than the simple maiden guessed ; 

And of her joy in song of bird 
Her heart the secret half confessed. 



90 THE WOOING. 

If warmer lit Avitli feeling's grace 
His manly cheek, when to his gaze 

From far the beauteous maiden face 
Looked on him from the growing maize — 

AYhat wonder he, though calm and wise, 
Should feel the old world dance and swim 

When on him bent those loveful eyes 
That, more than greeting, welcomed liim.^'' 

The while her sire the freedom gave 
Of waiting wigwam's m:it and shade, 

As warrior brave to warrior brave. 
Apart and silent sat the ma: J ; 

Or lightly tripped unto the lake 
To bring him drink with willing foet. 

Or glad, when he his f.ist would break, 
She modest brought a^ul gave him meaL. 

He from the bowl h's (hirst allayed, 
Xor with vain thanks did her address ; 

But sitting mute his hunger stayed, 
And rested of his weariness ; 

Till far and faint alone was heard 
The home-wind sighing through the land, 

The voice of night-awakened bird, 
And waves low-lapsing on the sand. 



THE WOOING, 91 

Then forth the aged chief he drew 
In unforgotten tales, to tell 

Of warrior deeds when days were few, 
Of braves that in the battle fell ; 

And still, as one with gifted speech 
The fit occasion waits, forbore 

Untimely thence to bring, in breach 
Of courtesy, his fairer lore. 

Yet beauty speaks through charm and grace 
In tongue that silence cannot bind ; 

So brightly shone his prophet-face 
With thoughts that lit his wiser mind ; 

And when the shadows fell that make 
The cheerful home-fire brighten more, 

His lips he loosed ; and as he spake 
Night listening rapt, contented wore. 

He told in lofty speech and wise 
Of other wigwams far away ; 

Of fairer shores that loom and rise 
Beyond the utmost bound of da}- ; 

Of hunter-homes, of tribe and band 
Vv^here more than sunset glory smiles ; 

Of Oway-neo's Shining Land, 
Of Inigorio's Happy Isles, 



$2 ■ THE WOOING. 

Of all the gifts that thence he brought, 
Of all the labors of his hand ; 

How he the hunter-bow had wrought, 
Had slain the monsters of the land ; 

How every beast with cry and roar, 
That crawled or ran or swam or flew, 

Fell reeking red with dying gore — 
Fell pierced and wounded through and through. 

And of that magic-built canoe, 
Kor paddle had, nor need of one ; 

Of wider waves that charmed and drew 
That mystic Chee-maun — on, and on. 

Of .great Ki-ha-de's E-wa-yea, 
Of farther tides that leap and run ; 

Of Gitche Gumee far aAvay, 
And seas beyond the setting sun. 

And all the sacred legends old, 
The wonders of remotest age : 

How Mana-bo-zho strong and bold, 
With Manitos did battle wage ; 

And when the floods came on the land, 
Whelmed in the sea the mountains tall, 

The world destroyed ; — whose mightj- hand 
Rebuilt again — repeopled all. 



TH^ WOOtNG. 93 

Told of the serpent huge and dread 
That from a tiny reptile grew ; 

Of her whose hand the arrow sped, 
Whose shaft the frightful monster slew ; 

Of dear Winona's darker fate : 
The maiden who, with heart so brave 

Than him unknown, unloved, to wed 
Chose death beneath the darkened wave. 

Told, — so to show, in wedded life, 
How needful to be mated well, — 

Of him that took a Bear to wife, 
And of the ills that thence befell. 

And glad they hearkened ; — while he spake 
The listening hours unheeded wore. 

Oh ! for the storied gift to wake 
The spell of that diviner lore I 



Whatever heights the tongue can reach 
Of all-cemmanding eloquence, 

But half is in the gift of speech, »— 
For half is in the listening sense ; 

Unto such ears he, speaking late, 
Did all the seals of Knowledge loose, — 

Knowledge that doth on Wisdom wait 
To widen life in Love and Use, 



94 THE woomG, 

Though to her sire alone he spake, 
Scarce minding where the maiden sat 

So maiden- wise, — nor deigned to break 
His lofty mood ; low from her mat, 

Nor bold, nor over modestly, 
Ever a finer ear she lent ; 

Listened — as only woman may — 
Upon his deeper thought intent.^* 

But all things pass and go ; the blaze 
Unfed, burned dim ; into the Past 

The vision of the vanished days 
Fading, again withdrew ; at last 

With some low, half-unuttered word 
The tale was ended ; there did fall 

A silence, — or alone was heard 
Afar the Ko-ko-ko-ho's call. 



And deep on manly limbs erelong 
Was soft the balm of slumber laid ; 

But joy that beats with pulse too strong 
Is kin to sorrow ; so the maid, 

In vain her midnight couch she pressed ; 
No sleep could bind the tender eyes. 

For all the tumult of her breast — 
For thoughts of him so good and wise. 



THE WOOING. 95 

maiden Heart ! so warm and true, 
That hath, like her, such vigil kept, 

Or ere the morn, of bliss so new, 
The pain a little stayed, hath slept. 

Dreaming sweet dreams that will not pass — 
Aye ! from the darkened years ; — to thee 

Why should I sing ? — to wake, alas ! 
Too oft a haunting memory. 

And who with tongue so eloquent 
To paint the rapture love distills, 

That fills the spirit's grosser tent 
With breath from the Immortal Hills ? 

Passion ! that is all replete 
With deepest bliss — with direst woe. 

Thy thrall, thy thrill, thy madness sweet 
The heart must, throbbing, feel to know. 

Or what is said, or all unsaid, , 

But little recks, when fleet and strong, 

O'er cheek and breast the currents re^ 
Run — singing glad a marriage song ; 

When other heart beats in our own, , . 
Disclosing to each keener sense 

The wealth and being, else unknown,. 
Of beauty's lavish heritance. 



96 THE WOOING, 

Enough : — when Hayo-went-ha camQ 
Home from Ti-o-to far away., 

Jlnhaloed as with robe of flame, — 
The splendor of love's risen day. 

His every heightened manly gra^e 
Bespoke how well the wooing sped ; 

Foretold the glory of his face— r 
Nyah-tah-wanta he would wed, 

And many an after day it grew — 
That larger brightness brightened more, 

When at the dawn he came and drew 
His Chee-maun to the pebbly shore ; 

As if with heart of love elate 
Its barky sides more lightly pressed 

The springing tide, as loth to wait 
To bear him on his loving quest, 



SONG 



OF 



NYAH-TAH-WANTA, 



Her little lays with joy replete 
Or sad with maiden care, she sang; 

Like to O-me-me, softly sweet f 
Or mournful as the lonely Mahng 
At midnight on the summer seas. 

The lips can set to fairest tunes 
The loves that lowliest hearts enthrall; 

woodland Odes ! forest Runes ! 
I ivould I more might these recall; 
The Hearths unwritten Melodies. 



SONG OF NYAH-TAH-WANTA. 

SoAN-GE-TAHA ! — S(3aii-ge-talia brave and strong 
my sweetheart ! Beloved ! waited long ; 
Thee, the Mighty, in my vision did I se3 ; 
When I look on my beloved — it u when 
I look on Thee.* 
And the twinkling 0-jis-hon-da. brightl}^ twinkling, 

Seem to tell : 
"Hayo-went-ha come to woo Nyah-tah-wanta, — ■ 
That is well/' 



Hayo-went-ha, Hayo-went-ha, great is he ; 
Come to woo Xyah-tah-wanta — can it be ? 
And he calls her lovely Kax-aa — is it so ? 
But a lowly, simple maid — Nyah-tah-wanta 
That I know. 
He, the Home-wind, sweet Kee-way-din, soothly singing, 

Seems to tell : 
''Hayo-went-ha come to woo Nyah-tah-wanta, — 
That is well." 
14 

See the '■ Ojibwa Song" iu Oneota.— By U. R. Schoolceaft. 



100 SONG OF NYAH-TAH-WANTA, 



Where the murmaring Yo-yo-hon-to through the glade, 
Softly singing, smiling lingers in tlie shade, 
Have I seen a lovely maiden look at me ; 
If she is Nyah-tah-wanta, she is pretty, 
I can see. 
And the streamlet's tinkling murmur, rippling, rippling, 

Seems to tell ; 
''Hayo-weut-ha come to woo Nyah-tah-wanta, — 
That IS well/' 



He the Chief of all our warriors ? — so they say; 
All the OxGUE HoN^WE People own his sway; 
Seem.i to m?, he surely can't be — or, for pride 
He v/ould seek some noble Kax-aa, — queenly maiden, 
For his bride. 
Mud-je-ke-wis, in the cedars, sighing, sighing. 

Seems to tell : 
'* Hayo-went-ha come to woo Nyah-tah-wanta, — 
That is well." 



Simple maid Nyah-tah-wanta, but no less 

Does she bear the heart of Yong-we, and would press, 

All her own, the mother's darlings to her breast ; 

On her dearest Nee-nee-moosh-a's brave and manly 
Heart would rest. 



SOXG OF NYAH-TAH-WANTA. 101 



Wa-won-ais-se in the Leaf Moon sweetly plainting, 

Seems to tell : 
" Hayo-went-lia come to woo Nyah-tali-wanta,— 

That is well/' 



What the flower is to the meadow, blooming fair, 
Brightening all the lonely places everywhere. 
If the bride of Hayo-went-ha, would I be 
To the heart of Hayo-went-ha, — to the home 
He builds for me. 
Dear 0-me-me, in the fir-tree, cooing, cooing, 

Seem 5 to tell : 
"Hayo-went-ha come to woo Nyah-tah-wanta. — 
That is well'^ 



I would weave a royal mantle ; it should bear 
All the to-tems of his Nation, passing fair ; 
Fairer than the one I wove him when I knew 
Only Hayo-went-ha, mighty, — not the loving 
Heart and true. 
On the lake the babbling So-ra, quacking, quacking, 

Seems to tell : 
-■Hayo-went-ha come to woo Nj^ah-tah-wanta, — 
That is well." 



102 SONG OF 9^^YAH-TAH-WANTA. 



And when Seg-Avim from the South-land comes again, 
I would plant the luscious 0-nust on the plain ; 

Careful tend the blades upspringing, — stir the loam ; 
Pluck the ripened ears at harvest ; bear the precious 
Burden home 
A-ro-se-a in the tree-top chattering, chattering, 

Seems to tell : 
" Hayo-went-ha come to woo N3^ah-tah-wanta — 
That is well." 



When the wigwaun i.i ilia Snow-moon silver shine, 
I would pound the dainty kernel, pound it fine ; 
With the fat of Yek-wai mix it, sweetest cake. 
Make and bake it all so nicely, — all for 
Hayo-went-ha's sake. 
Far the Ka-ka on Yo-non-to cawing, cawing, 

Seems to tell : 
" Hayo-went-ha come to woo Nyah-tah-wanta, — 
That is well."' 



When Kah-sah-git in his snow-shoes o'er the hill 
Scatters wide the shining 0-kah, falling chill, 
Far would noble Hayo-went-ha with his how 
Hunt the Mo-sa and the Yek-wai and the fiercer 
0-kwa-ho. 



SONG OF N YAH -T AH -WANT A. 103 



On the wave the noisy Wa-wa, honking, honking, 

Seems to tell : 
"Hayo-went-ha come to woo Nyah-tah-wanta, — 

That is well." 



When the Council-fire would brighten far away, 
Calling tribe and band that proudly own his sway, 
Thither in his magic Chee-maun would he go ; 
He his larger mind and wiser in his gifted 
Speech would show. 
Screaming bold, the great War-Ke-neu, squalling 

Squalling, seems to tell : 
" Hayo-went-ha come to woo Nyah-tah-wanta, — 
That is well.'' 



By the wigwam, long and lonely though I wait, 
I would charm the hours with labor ; I would mate 
With my larger love his wisdom's fairer store ; 
And the after-joy of meeting, would long parting 
Heighten more. 
From the wood the Ko-ko-ko-ho, hooting, hooting, 

Seems to tell : 
"Hayo-went-ha come to woo Nyah-tah-wanta, — 
That is well." 



104 SONG OF NYAH-TAH-WANTA, 



And, — joy ! if I should bear liim, so requite 
Mighty love with gifts so worthy, sons of might ; 
Happy they in such a father ; as they grew 
I would teach them to be ever noble warriors, 
Brave and true. 
Great Da-hin-da, in the fenland, croaking, croaking, 

Seems to tell : 
" Hayo-went-ha come to woo Nyah-ta-wanta, 
That is well." 



And enough for me the easing of his care ; 
He would call me always kindly, think me fair ; 
And for all the love I bear him, I would find 
Something of his wiser being shining in my 
Darker mind. 
Far Tio-to's billows lapsing, softly lapsing, 

Seem to say : 
"Hayo-went-ha come to woo Nyah-tah-wanta,— 
E-wa-yea," 



THE BRIDAL. 



Ojoij all other joy above ! 
No other joy siirpasseth this. 

The fairest gift to mortal — Love. 
Oh, foretaste of Immortal Miss 

By lowly maiden heart j^ossessed ! 
Nor hers alone : The great and wise 

Do own within a deeper breast 
That Heaven is in loving eyes. 



THE BRIDAL 



What time the Falling-leaf Moon Irang 
Her faintest crescent on the sky, 

When to the woods the Home-wind suns: 
A sweetly soothing lulhiby ; 

He, Hyo-went-ha, rich arrayed 
In royal mantle, woven fail-, 

Where bright in many a to-tem braid 
Shone fierce the Tortoise, Wolf and Bear ; 

In snowy leggins beaded grand, 
The moccasins with the marvelous hem, 

Upon his breast the wampum-band 
Inwrought with many a curious gem ; 

As musing on that dearer friend. 
Or chance a deeper thought he bore 

Of life, its duties, aim and end, — 

Trod proud the Onondaga shore, 
15 



108 THE BRIDAL. 

And like the rising morning grew 
The larger brightness of his face, 

When at the dawn he came and drew 
His Chee-maun from its hiding-place ; 

That, as with yearning heart elate, 
The springing tide more lightly pressed — • 

Danced on the wave, as loth to wait 
To bear him on his loving quest. 

It erst had many a storm withstood ; 
Had borne him in the days before 

To slay the monsters of the flood — 
Great Ke-ka-dah-nong on the shore ; 

And far on many a stranger sea : 
Wherever most might knowledge loose 

Her sacred seal, or glory be ; 
But now should prove its nobler use. 

It parts the shore : — Lo ! sapphire-lit, 
Bwift on the rippling wave it drew ; 

As o'er the mere the shadows flit 
Of clouds that sail the summer blue ; 

The parted waves like rubies showed. 
More softly lapsed the sighing marge ; 

The kindling dawn more golden glowed,— 
A warmer wish impelled the barge. 



THE BRIDAL. 1^9 

The White Swan singing on the lake 
Unto his ear more joyous sang ; 

More sweetly sad from out the brake 
The moaning of the lonely Mahng ; 

The soaring Ke-neu's screech and squall, 
The Wa-be-wawa honking near, 

The soaring Key-oshk's harsher call 
Seemed mellowed to his charmed ear. 



A music sliook the quiet air 
Like tinkling bells of silver sound ; 

The glimmering 1)1 ue o'er-bending there, 
Seemed with love's holiest circlet bound. 

All Nature is but outward Man ; 
He hears alone the melodies 

Within his breast ; nor other than 
The beauty in his soul he sees. 



' t1^ she that by Ti-o-to stood 

. . autumn s wmdy days, 
J^ air m t "^ ' 

great 0-nust ripe and good, 

ad strip the mighty Maize,— 
io pluc 1 1 T 1 

and glad she came and went, 

TT XI ^^^ — and hushed her sonar — 
Upon the . ^ 

-nmg look she bent ; 
Anon a ' 

For brief dc*"'"^''''""^- 



110 



THE BRIDAL. 

Again she broods her little care 
And voices so her bosom-i^ain, 

Such pain as maiden bosoms bear : 
" Oh ! will that Chee-maun come again ; 

That Chee-maun from the fairer shore ? 
Or ever must I lonely wait ? 

Will Hayo-went-ha come no more — 
Or is he good as he is great ? " 



''Blest Oway-neo high above, 
Bless her, the lowly maiden, pray ; 

Nor her alone keep in thy love, — 
Keep him, the loved one, far away."'' 

And ever as the morning wore, 
While to her weary task she bent, 

To Hayo-went-ha more and more 
Her heart in tender yearnings went. 

But when beyond the pebbly^,^j:i.ge 
Again, with love delighted ej.g 

She saw afar that mystic b;.ge 
Saw Hayo-went-ha great and \^^ ; — 

Forgetting all loves care an. smart, 
What rare delights her bosoi^ swayed ! 

What rapture thrilled th^^f gentle heart- 
Fell like a mantle on the m^id ! 



THE BBIDAL, 111 



And if beside the waiting sea 
Her pulse a deeper joy confessed 

To mark that Chee-maun speeding free, 
Oh ! how divine a peace and rest 

The maiden bosom owned, when near 
She saw him by the wigwam stand ; 

With him the mat again to share. 
And clasp again that dearer hand. 



With something of the olden fire 
Of 0:n^gue Hoxwe's lofty mood, 

Uprose the maiden's aged sire 
To friendly greet hiai where he stood ; 

To make for Hayo-w^nt-ha free 
The wigwam's fairest couch and rest ; 

With pipe and meat and courtesy 
Give welcome to his noble guest. ^^ 

And charming all the twilight shade, 
Of deeds of other days they tell 

Of hunter chase o'er hill and glade, 
Of braves that in the battle fell ; 

And all the home-delighting tales, — 
Till by some saddened memory crossed, 

Unfinished, late the story fails, — 
Still musing on the loved and lost. 



/ 



112 THE BRIDAL. 

While she, the maiden, sat apart 
Content to see the hour prolong, 

Sat softly crooning to her heart 
Some stave of love-awakened song. 

And so the darkness more and more 
To silence fell, till all was still, 

Save waves low-lapsing on the shore 
And Wa-won-ais-se's plainting shrill. 

But when the night was overpassed, 
When rested of his weariness 

And he again had broke his fast, — ■ 
As he would all his heart confess, 

From out his Ghee-maun forth he bore 
And wide the costly treasures spread, 

Such as might friendship heighten more, 
And Hayo-went-ha, speaking, said : 

''As is our people's custom, so 
I bring you gifts ; such gifts a? be 

Not all unworthy ; yet I know 
What in return I ask of thee 

The richest boon can never buy ; 
In more than friendly bond allied, 

I seek in these love's dearer tie — 
I seek this maiden for my bride." 



THE BRIDAL. US 

Incurious of each costly braid, 
The aged Chieftain from his mat, 

Put by his pipe, looked on the maid 
And lonely musing, silent sat ; " 

As he her heart would question so, 
Or through the rising mist of tear3 

Far-looking into e3'es that glow 
And brighten from the vanished years, 

''Take her, Hayo-went-ha ! — she 
Is all thine own," bespoke her sire ; 

"I scorn not gifts like thine to me, 
But love is more than vain desire. 

take her ! — she will with thee gp ; 
And wifely-wise her heart shall l)ear 

The name and fame thou dost bestow. 
And worthy thou of bride so fair." 

What bliss her lowly jboiling lent 
Through all the beauteous autumn days ; 

For not alone the maiden went 
To joyous pluck the ruddy Maize. 

How quick and strong the hands to dare, 
When love their labor more endears ; 

For Hayo-went-ha, he would bear 
The burden of the ripened ears,^* 



114 THE BRIDAL. 

Love ! thou leiidst a heightened charm 
Not to the maiden's brow alone ; 

No less upon his manly form 
Thy all-ennobling presence shone, — 

With a celestial luster glowed, 
His every feature lightened through ; 

His very step, as forth he strode, 
Seemed quickened with that rapture new. 

As glad the orient's kindling glow 
The hastening da}' l)etokens wide, 

So beauty's rarer splendors show 
The maideii rii)ei!iug to the ])ride ; 

Her bosoju tlirol^s more tenderly. 
More rarely shines each uiaiden grace ; 

More lovel}' than the maid, we see 
The woman in the maiden face. 

Love — only lov^e, a beauty wears ; 
If touching but her shining hem 

The plainest way-side damsel bears 
More than a jewelled diadem. 

And oh, what art can heighten more 
The peerless charms that her adorn. 

When she that was so fair before. 
Transfigured, waits the nuptial morn I 



THE BRIDAL. 115 

On her, the forest's lowly maid, 
Robed on with every virgin grace, 

Whose proudest wish had never strayed 
Beyond the Yong-we's home and place, 

How passing fair love's mantle shone ; 
Love bears the true enchanter's wand, 

And beauty wrought of love alone 
Is beauty of the Morning Land, 



Calm lit thy bridal, dawning bright ; 
Thy heart no baser feeling moved ; 

And Nature smiled her dear delight, 
And Oway-neo glad approved 

The chastened nuptial tie and band 
Of hearts by simple love allied, 

When thou, nor unadorned, didst stand 
The noble Hayo-went-ha's bride. 

More tender woke the woman's tone. 
While like the morning's ruby rise 

A radiant splendor round thee shone — 
Looked beauteous from thy starry eyes. 

O'er cheek and breast emmantled warm ; 
When thou, in all thy maiden charms, 

Didst yield thy lovely maiden form, 

To Hayo-went-ha's manly arms. 
16 



116 THE BRIDAL. 

Near m the rapture-burdened blue, 
And dancing with love's fairy feet, 

The twinkling 0-jis-hon-da drew, 
Peeped — conscious of love's secret sweet ; 

Wo-ne-da, winging o'er the wold, 
Clasped in the yearning arms of Night, 

Put back her bosom's cloudy fold. 
Made crimson with the new delight. 

The wood through all its leafiness 
Stood — thrilled with maiden tenderness 

The yearning sea returned the kiss, 
And blushed, of Morning's fond caress. 

The bridal waves ecstatic swam, 
Lapsed fainting on the loving shore ; 

The Zephyr, bearing nectar-balm. 
Fell, drunken with the bliss it bore, — 



As forth they wandered hand in hand. 
Approved by Nature's mother-heart, 

Love well had wrought the nuptial band,- 
What more might solemn rite impart ? 

If love the wedding feast prepare. 
Love at the marriage banquet Avait, 

More than the priestly hand is there; 
The very air is consecrate, 



TH!E AFTER-DAYS. 



Flower of Love ! though tvildling horn^ 
Tour lowly buds that blossom free 

Do fair the tree of life adorn, 
That else had been a barren tree. 



Though fragrance sweet beyond compute 
Is thine, and beauty passing praise, 

More precious far the ripened fruit 
We gamer in the After Days. 



THE AFTEU-DAYS. 



Wher."] sill gill o- K]-j ;l j jyoas tliiii;^^ 
Went Yo-yo-lio:i-to on it., way, 

Where 0:1 Vaq night-wincrs liglite:ju ^v:n'r 
Came up Ti-o-to's '' E-wa-yea,"* 

There, beauteous on the grassy strain i 
And ncr.r beside (ho sheltering wood, 

And wrought hy Ilayo-went-ha's hand. 
The new-built wigwam In'ightly stood. 

And patient toiled he many a day 
^Vith sinew-string and barky thong, 

With loop and seam and stitch and stay, 
Intent to make it firm and strono-. 

Then forth he went with shaft and bow 
And many a hairy skin he bore. 

Of Yek-wai and of 0-kwa-ho, 
And softly matted all the floor. 



120 THE AFTER-DAYS. 

To cliann iiud guurd his home and phice 
Its barky sides he pictured fair 

Witli to-teiiis of his name and race, — ■ 
Where fierce the Tortoise, Wolf and Bear 

High 0:1 it 5 b:irky cover shone ; 
Each t3'pe and symbol, such as thence 

The grciitly wise may draw alone 
The mystery of the hidden sense. 



And there lie brought the aged sire. 
And there Nyah-tah-wanta came ; 

She broke the sticks, she built the fire, 
AVhile svreeter than the crackling flame 

The song that murmured in her heart, 
So overfull of love's unrest. 

Oh ! love can wake the songful art 
That slumbers in the rudest breast. 



Glad wore the days, with joy allied. 
Of Hayo-vv'ent-ha*s hunter-life ; 

And she that Vv'as a beauteous bride 
More beauteous ripened to the wife ; 

And if at whiles o'erwearied pressed 
The feet the household burdens bore, 

It sweetened more the after-rest ; 
Love-lit, the Home-fire brightened more. 



THE AFTER-DAYS. 12} 

But fairest life will sorrows dim : 
Erelong, with mighty arm and cold, 

Dread 0-wah-ai-gut came for him — 
Her sire — more feeble grown and old, 

And bore him to the Better Land; 
Land that the dim horizon bounds, 

Where roams each dusky tribe and band — 
The nobler Spirits' Hunting Grounds, 



And him they dressed with loving care : 
They wrapped him in his blanket new, 

His moccasins that were beaded fair, 
His snowy leggins softly drew ; ^^ 

His brow they bound with warrior-band 
And crowned it with the eagle-plume ; 

They laid his war-club in his hand, 
Then bore him to the waiting tojnlj, 

» 
And Hayo-went-ha, through his tears, 
Said, speaking to the chieftain gone : 

''0 thou whom parting more endears, 
Beloved ! who hast journeyed on. 

Albeit a weary way and long. 
To land where noble Hunters dwell. 

The Mighty Warriors, brave and strong, 
! Knee-ha, Father ! fare thee well,"'' 



122 THE AFTER-DAYS. 

Nyali-tah-wanta's deeper pain 
Her trembling lips but ill expressed ; 

Her tears were like the summer rain, 
And like the rain, they soothed and blest ; 

Her cheek the sod in anguish pressed. 
But not for long ; she leaned her head 

On Hayo-went-ha\s manly breast 
And wept — and then was comforted. 



Again the Awys in beauty wore : 
Erelong Nyah-tah-wanta pressed — 

The drer.m her maiden bosom bore — 
Her darling to her mother's breast. 

As t J Nyah-tah-wanta lie 
In aii\he years had dearer grown. 

So, in her motherhood, was she 
More truly Hayo-went-ha's own. 

« 

Though hers the woman's destiny — 
Though pain the mother s love unsealed, 

No tearful sorrow-burdened cry 
The mother's anguished pain revealed ; 

For she the lofty faith possessed, 
That, coward weakness held in scorn, 

Endurance in the mother-breast 
Wrought courage in the newly-born.^^ 



THE AFTER-DAYS. 123 

How wondrous strange a beauty hath 
The glimmering life, so newly lit ; 

How sweet along the home-led path 
The pattering of the tiny feet. 

Can rarer joy for mortal be, 
A purer bliss may mortal know, 

Than on love's bounteous breast to see 
A dearer life in beauty grow ? 



The bridal days come back again. 
Love brighten.3 to each fond caress ; 

Aye ! even the mother's d8eper pain 
Do soft endearments turn to bliss ; 

What good may heart of Woman own — 
What J03^ her simple joy above. 

Far dwelling in the forest lone ? — 
What is there more than home and love ? 



When from the land had lied amain 
The winter glooms, in cheerful toil 

She took great 0-nust's luscious grain 
And hid it in the fruitful soil. 

She anxious watched the tiny spears, 
Made mellow round eacli springing blade 

Or joyous plucked the ripened ears, 

As meet for Indian wife or maid. 
17 



124 THE AFTER-DAYS. 

Or, with the housewife's frugal care, 
Far through the forest's windy ways 

She roamed, the fallen nuts to bear 
And garner for the wintry days ; 

Or in the woods the sticks would break 
And bear them to her lowly door, 

To cook the Mosa-meat, and make 
The cheerful Home-fire brio^hten more. 



AYhile Ha3'o-weut-ha wore the day 
In following with his shaft and bow 

The lofty-ant lered Me-sha-way, 
Or fiercely-howling 0-kwa-ho ; 

The snowy Wau-bos, tender-eyed, 
The Jit-sho with the wary tread, 

The Ne-jig with the sleeky hide, 
The shagged Yek-wai, prowling dread. 

She watched the midnight-brooding star 
Chased by the dawn, and unafraid 

Save but for him, whose feet afar 
Still in the hunter-chase delayed ; 

Or in his Chee-maun fleet and free, 
That willing went and willing came, 

Borne lightly o'er the foaming sea 
Where, waiting, lit the Council-flame. 



THE AFTER-DAYS. 125 

When from the Council Fire returned, 
He rested on his couch and mat, 

The cheerful blaze more brightly burned ; 
When by its kindling flame he sat 

Or shone the robe so newly wrought 
On Hayo-went-ha s manly breast, 

Like that the bridal morning brought 
The joy the wifely heart confessed, 

And more the mother's breast would own 
The mother's joy, nor less delight 

The little maid, when gaily shone 
Her fawn-skin kirtle, snowy-white ; 

And day by day, in rarer grace 
The lithesome form did heighten more ; 

Nor less the soul that lit the face 
Grew, — curious of all forest-lore. 



To charm the twilight, waiting Igne, 
Bhe from the wigwam's fables old 

Told of the deeds in days unknown, 
Or childhood's fairy stories told : 

Of Mana-bo-zho — he that set 
His legs to roast the Kee-wau-nee ; 

Whence came the willows red, that yet 
Are gory-red — as you can see. 



126 THE AFTER-DAYS. 

Of Shin-ge-bis so brave and bold, 
Or duck or man, as he might please ; 

Him that, with all his storm and cold, 
Kabi-bon-ok-ka could not freeze. 

All stories of the vanished years, 
The wondrous fireside Folk-songs old 

Told to the maiden's willing ears ; 
As but by Indian mothers told. 

The while the reedy mats she made 
Or lit the embers, falling dim. 

Or wove the precious wampum-braid 
And charmed the lioar with thoughts of him ; 

Or, Hayo-went-ha more to bless. 
The little maiden by her side, 

With patient hand of weariness 
She dressed Skan-o-do's hairy hide. 

And growing, more the maiden grew 
The mother's joy, the father's pride ; 

She all the wigwam fables knew, 
Nor less her hand to labor plied ; 

But when her little task was done. 
So learned in all the stories old, 

Her pretty tongue would prattle on — 
Re-tell the tales the mother told. 



THE AFTER-DAYS. 127 

You would a willing ear have lent ; 
Like this her simple legendry : — 
"As through the woods the Be-zhu went 
Sore pressed with hunger, did he see 
High on a bank beyond his reach 
The snowy Wau-bos, tender-eyed ; 

And in his very sweetest speech — 
' Come here, my pretty one,' he cried. 

"The gentle beast, replying, spake : 
'I thank you, but it cannot be ; 

My mother said, I must not make, 
Most noble sir, with strangers free/ 

' loveliest ! ' he answered fair. 
Obedient child, you need not fear ; 

How worthy of such parent's care ! 
I am a relative, my dear, 

"'Of 3'ours, and only wish to send 
A word to those we love ; — stay !' 

He said, ' I am your dearest friend. 
Indeed I — come down to me, I pray.' 

She, at his flattering address, 
Forgot her mother's good advice ; 

And drawing near, that Hare, alas ! 
Was torn and eaten in a trice." 



128 THE AFTER-DAYS. 



She told of love the tender tales ; 
Of him that journeyed far and, high, 

Son of the Evening Star that trails 
A glory down the western sky r — 



^Osseo wrinkled was and old — ■ 
AH for an Evil Manito ; 

But he was good and wise and bold- 
His was a tender heart and true. 



''And Oweenee, the lovely maid, 
She all her lovers turned away^ 

Though decked with beads and wampum-braid 
And young and brave and painted g?iy. 

''They laughed when she Osseo wed — 
Laughed at his feeble step and slow ; 

But ' 1 am happy,' still she said, 
And who is foolish j^ou shall know,' 

" Osseo wrinkled was and old ; — 
He hid him in a hollow tree ; 

When forth he came a youth, behold J—? 
I^Q other youth so fair as be. 



THU AFTER-DAYS. 129 



" Oil, none indeed did ever know 
Such straight and tall and handsome man, 

With all the fleetness of the Roe — 
With all his strength come back again ! 



" Alas ! the magic witchery 
That unto him such beauty lent, 
Made her, his dearest Oweenee, 
Decrepid, wrinkled, old and bent. 



"Yet spake Osseo words of cheer ; 
He called her still each tender name. 

He called her Nee-nee-moosh-a dear- 
He called her sweetheart all the same, 



" Though they, the Evil Powers, did mar 
Her every feature, he could see 

Within and shining like a star, 
All lovely still, his Oweenee. 



" And with a cry he broke the spell : 
Lo ! all the wrinkled ugliness 

Fell from her — like a garment fell, — 
Left only beauty's charm and grace. 



130 THE AFTER-DAYS. 



" But all the lovers, sisters, they 
That flouted, jeered and spake her ill, 

Were changed to birds and flew away, 
And in the woods are singing still. 



" While like the morn that night illumes, 
Was Oweenee, so lovely grown ; 

Or like the Swan with glistening plumes, 
So new her snowy kirtle shone. 



"Her howLs ii;) longer -were of wood, 
Her kettles all like silver showed ; 

The barky lodge that glimmering stood, 
Like flaming wings, it swayed and glowed. 



" Then heard they far-olT voices call. 
That through the twilight tender fell 

'The magic spells are broken all, — 
Come, in the Stars immortal dwell.' 



*' And lo ! the wigwam rising free, 
Went speeding through the ether far ; 

Till with Osseo, Oweenee, 
It jested on the Evening Star. 



THE AFTER-DAYS. 131 

*'No inore to wrinkled grow and die, 
No more in weary toil to pine ; 

To dance and sing — not weep and cry 
To like the starlight glow and shine." 



All home-delighting tales she told : — 
Of him, the wrestler never thrown, 

The greatest trickster, jester bold, 
The greatest mischief-maker known ; 

Him, Pau-puk-kee-wis, wizard sprite, 
That in a hundred forms was slain, 

Yet ever with new strength and might 
In bird and beast did live a^ain. 



Of him, far seeking fairer boon 
Than is the noblest gift of men,— 

Iosco, to the sun and moon 
That journeyed, and returned again ; 

Of all the vronders that he saw, 
The strange adventures that befel. 

Of every mighty Manito 
That helped or hindered, she could tell, 
18 



132: 'i:he after-days^ 

Of the Magician's Daughter ; she, 
The Red Swan, whose gay plumage lent 

A glory to the land and sea ; 
Who, when his magic arrows spent, 

Still on and on the hunter drew 
And all his manly courage tried ; 

Until, so hrave was lie and true, 
He won the maiden for his bride. 

And of the shining Stone Canoe, 
Wherein the hapless lover passed 

Into the Land of Souls„ and saw 
The maiden he had mourned, — the rest 

That waits on all the good and brave,—- 
Land where no parting is or pain ; 

Returning thence across the wave 
He trod this darkened Earth again. 

Of Kwa-sind, Mana-bo-zho's friend. 
So strong that mighty rocks he threw ; 

Who freed the rivers, cleared the land. 
And A-meek, King of Beavers, slew. 

Who for his pride of strength and might, 
For all his pride and boasting vain. 

Was slain, alas ! in hate and spite — 
By little mean Puck-Wudj-ies slain. 



THE AFTER'D4Y^, 13? 

Of him that, fasting all too long, ' 

Changed to 0-pee-chee, — gaily sings 

Till all the grove is loud >yith song, — 
So happy in the gift of wings. 

Of the Foam Woman, Pee-ta-Kway, 
The Moccasins that enchanted dra\v ; 

Of her the Fairies stole away -^ 
The lovely maiden Lee-lj-nau,* i 

And more, as grows the kindling dawn. 
In beauty grew the little maid ; 

That free and lithesome as the fawn 
Went dancing through the windy glade ; , 

And oft when summer breezes fanned i 

Her glowing cheek, afar was heard 

Her little song, that o'er the land 

She caroled like a singing bird. 

1 

And as in stature, more she grew j 
In forest-lore, till passing well 

She all the marvelous stories knew— ^ 

More than lago's self could tell. ; 

Nor less a maiden heart and kind | 

Her bosom bore, while in her face \ 

Shone all the father's wiser mind j 

Lit with the mother s tender grace ' 

♦ Hiawatha Legends, by H. R. Schoolcraft, 



134 TilK AFTER-DAYS, 



Serene the days had onward flown, 
The years that only came to bless, 

And Hayo-went-ha great had grown 
In majesty and nobleness ; 

More wide had spread his prophet-fame 
The Dusky Tribes to lead and teach ; 

And many a warrior chieftain came 
To hearken to his wiser speech. 

His name on every wind had flown 
Wherever dnsky warriors roam ; 

Yet dearer to his heart had grown 
The long-familiar p:i[hs of home ; 

Its soothing tones that gently wake, 
Still mora luid power to charm and bless ; 

And i:i his voice, the while he spoke, 
There dvreU a deeper tenderness. 

And teaching, more himself had taught 
Of all this being's end and aim ; 

That mighty deeds, with glory fraught,. 
If fame, is not the noblest fame ; 

Not triumph in the bloody strife 
Nor yet to give to pleasure loose, 

But that the measure meet of life 
Is Virtue, Wisdom, Love and Use. 



THE COUNCIL. 



Blest Oway-neo high above , 
Thou only mighty, all in all, 

0! Thou that aH ImmoHal Love, 
Must hear us or we faint and fall! 

0! give us more of trust to feel 
In Thee; Thee more to understand; 

To see in all, or woe or weal. 
Thy presence and thy loving hand. 



THE COUNCIL. 



As if too much might bliss endear 
This all too-quickly passing life, 

Erelong to Hayo-went-ha's ear 
Came rumors of War's ruthless strife ; 

The fell Algonquin warriors fierce 
With war-ax red and angry bow 

Had come ; their savage yells did pierce 
The very home of Manito, 



And lo ! afar the lurid streaks 
From flaming wigwams lighted past ; 

While Kax-aa s cries and Yong-we's shrieks 
Dread mingled with the awful blast. 

A sorrow, wail that, east or west, 
Or north or south, still onward swept, 

And kindled in each dusky breast 
The fiery soul that long had slept. 



138 THE COUNCIL. 

And forth at Hayo-went-ha's call 
The widely-scattered chieftains came, 

Where fearful shone night's gloomy pall, 
Lit with the mighty Council-flame — ^^ 

Far kindled on Yo-non-to, high 
Above the Onondaga flood ; 

Bright flaring on the midnight sky, 
Illumino: hill and wave and wood. 



Three days that beacon-light had shone 
On plumes a thousand warriors wore ; 

Still Hayo-went-ha waited lone 
Beside Ti-o-to's farther shore, 

Nor to the Council came ; and fleet 
Went hunters, SAviftest in the chase, 

Went messengers with flying feet. 
To bring him to the Council-pLace. 



And him they found ; — nor bold and proud 
He stood, as one of noble state ; 

But sat he mute, in sorrow boAved — 
The presage of a darker fate. 

His breast an evil omen bore, 
Foretelling he no more shouhi come 

Back from the Council-place, nor more 
Pe gladdened by the smiles of home. 



; 



THE COUNCIL, 139 

In fitting words, nor overbold, 
To him they spake ; how, burning dim, 

The Council still delayed ; they told 
What mighty chieftains waited him ; 

What braves the fiercer foe had slain ; 
How women wept and children mourned ; 

Till pitying so his People's pain, 
Or he his lighter sorrow scorned, 

Or bowing to the will of Fate, — 
Uprose ; and not as one bereft, 

But with a firmer step elate ; 
And on that manly face was left 

Of anguijhed thought, nor trace nor stain ; 
But with the olden fire imbued — 

The scorn of fear, the scorn of pain 
Of Ongue Honwe's loftv mood. 



Bright in the morning's dawning light 
Shone Hayo-went-ha s Prophet-face, 

As it some passion's stormy might 
Had lit and left a fiery trace ; 

His brow of mighty purpose showed. 
His eye of valor's kindling ken ; 

His very step, as forth he strode. 
Was haughty, as of kingly men. 
19 



140 THE COUNCIIis 

And forth again the wondrous barge 
From out its secret place he brought ; 

Bore softly to the pebbly marge 
The bark by mystic fingers wrought, — 

The Chee-maun blest of Manito, 
That paddle-bearing hand had none, 

Yet fleetly on, and onward drew 
When Hayo-went-ha willed it on ; 

That bore him in the days before, 
In radiant summers long agone 

To fair Ti-o-to's pebbly shore, 
When, lit with love's awakening dawn, 

It glowed as Owaj^-neo there 
Had built his wigwam on the strand. 

Oh, love can make the common rare- 
Make every land a summer-land I 

It erst had many a storm withstood ; 
Him with his mighty bow it bore 

To slay the monsters of the flood, 
Great Ke-ka-dah-nong on the shore ; 

And far on many a stranger sea, — 
Wherever most might knowledge loose 

Her sacred seal, or glory be ; 
But now should prove its nobler use. 



THE COUNCIL. XiX 

As it" with warrior-pride elate, 
Or felt again love's fond desire, 

It lightly skipped, as loth to wait 
To bear him to the Council Fire ; 

On Onondaga's breast to dance — 
Far on the sea to dance and leap. 

Before the westering sun should glance 
His arrows from the rocky steep. 

In royal mantle woven fair, 
Nyah-tah-wanta's hand had made. 

Where shone the Tortoise, Wolf, and Bear, 
Shone fierce in many a to-tem-braid ; 

In moccasins with the marvelous hem, 
In snowy leggins, beaded grand, 

Inwrought with many a curious gem,— - 
He trod the Onondaga strand. 

And her he called — the little maid — 
From out the leafy summer wood, 

Glad singing through the windy glade 
The simple songs of maidenhood ; 

And when anear she lightly run. 
Said to the maiden tenderly, 

" Go, put your beaded kirtle on. 
Your mantle new, and go with me." 



142 THE COUNCIL^ 



And as the maid with quicker tread 
Aud gayer song went lightly by, 

The mother, though she nothing said, 
The mother, though she knew not why, — 

Was loth to let the damsel go ; 
Perchance within a deeper breast, 

Of danger that she did not know, 
She felt the trouble and unrest. 



Swift sped afar the mystic bark, — 
Bright on the tide the morning broke ; 

But Hayo-wc:it-ha, brooding dark, 
Looked on the tide, and nothing spoke ; 

As if he spied in outward sight, 
Or saw with clearer inner eye. 

Or inly felt the spell and might 
Of awful sorrow, boding nigh. 

Though with that omened dread imbued, 
Some tender thought his bosom bore 

Unto the mother where she stood, — 
Sad lingered on the pebbly shore. 

Nyah-tah-wanta watching vain 
That magic Chee-maun speeding fast. 

Still looked and wept, and felt the pain 
As if that parting were the last. 



^ 



THE COUNCIL, 143 



.. When lost unto her anxious sight, 
She homeward turned with weary tread, 

To mourn the wigwam's lost delight ; 
While unto him, as on he sped, 

Ti-o-to\s banks, receding, grew 
More dim and faint ; — still on, away 

To where the hurrying currents drew 
Of swiftly-running Seneca. 

And many an ill-foreb' xling bird 
Along the reedy borders woke ; 

A grief-betokening ton 3 he heard 
In great Da-hin-da's lioarser croak ; 

The war Ke-neu, with screech and squall, 
Bore to his ear a sorrow-cry ; 

In noisy Wa-wa s honking call 
He heard an evil prophecy. 

The pretty maid, with heart elate, 
Her paddle in the limpid sea, 

Sat, — only so to keep it straight. 
The Chee-maun lightly speeding free j 

Or more to charm her maiden care 
Or so the lingering hour to chide. 

She pulled the lilies blooming fair, 
Or watched the silver ripples glide. 



144 THE COUNCIL, 

Her little songs she softly sang^ 
Or >vatched the tiny minnows throng, 

Or listened to the lonely Mahng, 
Nor heard in his a troubled song ; 

She saw the Sa-wa darting free, 
Skan-o-do browsing in the w^ood ; 

Nor thought of coming ill had she, 
ThQ little maiden, fair and good. 

And still away it lightly run, 
Like wing of bird — that light canoe ; 

Still Hayo-went-ha willed it on, 
And still the willing current drew ; 

Till swiftly up the So-ha-hi 
That airy bark he lighth^ pressed ; 

Now Onondaga glimmers nigh — - 
Lo ! now he skims its flashing breast. 



High on Yo-non-to far away 
A thousand dusky wai'riors wait ; 

The morn is passed, and still they say, — 
''He comes not — Hayo-went-ha great/' 

But lo ! along the reedy marge 
A lonely Chee-maun speeding free ; 

And — ''Knee-ha! Knee-ha!" greets the barge; 
''My father ! — father !— it is he 1 !" 



THE COUNCIL, 145 

Near and more near ; — lie gains the shore ; 
From out the bark with h>ving hand 

The maiden dear he lightly bore ; 
While voices , waking all the land, 

The Chieftain greet, — now more their hope. 
A thousand warriors on him wait 

To bear him up the grassy slope, 
Where, empty, waits the lodge of state. 

But lo ! what sound from lUr is heard ? 
What fierce-descending form is there 

With pinions of a mighty bird, 
That rived and blackened all the air ? 

How thrilled the bravest hearts with fear ! 
With wings that brought the gloom of night, 

That terror-bearing creature near 
Swooped frightful on their startled sight, 

Still down — and down ; still circling nigh, 
While deepened more the shrouding gloom ; 

Still down — and down ; — till all the sky 
Shone awful v/ith impending doom ! 

How fled the frightened multitude — 
Fled wild and shrieking everywhere ! 

While calm great Hay o-went-ha stood — 
He and the little maiden fair. 



146 THE COUNCIL. 



And why should Hayo-went-ha flee ? 
Or why should fear his heart appall ? 

Was not great Oway-neo, He 
The Mighty Ruler over all, 

Around him in the fearful ways, 
As in tlie path that peaceful smiles ? 

To yield him more these frailer days, 
Or bear him to the Happy Isles. 

Swift sped the shafts from thousand strings — 
Swift sped, and true, — but all in vain ; 

For though the monster's frightful Avings 
Lay shivered on the crimson plain, — 

A cry, lliat startled ;dl tlie vale, 
That shook the listening sea with dread, 

Went up ; — a wail — an awful wail 
For her, the Chieftain's darling — dead. 

And wonder more their sorrow stirred : 
For lo ! where stood the little maid. 

Killed — dreadful ! — by that frightful bird. 
Itself crushed dead along the glade, 

Nor lifeless form nor human trace 
Was there, nor parted vesture found ; 

Though strewn with plumes was all the place, 
And blood-besprinkled all the ground. 



i 



THE COUNCIL. 147 

And over Hayo-went-ha s soul 
The mighty tides of anguish swept ; 

He bowed him to their fierce control, 
And sorely sorrow-stricken wept ; 

And grief from bravest hearts outpoured — 
Rang piercing through the frightened air ; 

Till waking Echo, weeping, heard 
The wail and lamentation there. 



Three days he wept beside the sea,- 
He wept till he could weep no more ; 

Three dnj^s of tearful agony 
Prostrate he lay along the shore ; 

Nor tasted food day after day. 
Bemoaning wild her sadder fate ; 

He nothing spake — as dead he lay, 
Heart-broken and disconsolate. 



And Nature, grieving, mourned with him : 
As brooding her untimely doom. 

The saddened watch-fire flickered dim, 
The midnight wore a deeper gloom ; 

The Moon her cloudy mantle drew, 
In sorrow for the stricken Chief; 

The darkened woods, the long night through, 
Stood silent in the hush of grief 
20 



i48 THE COUNCIL, 

Along the sea more lonesome woke 
The moaning of the lonely Mahng ; 

The great Da-hin-da's hoarser croak 
From out the brake more doleful rang ; 

The Ko-ko-ko-ho's mournful hoot 
Blent with the Wa-woii-ais-se\s moan ; 

The troubled waves, with swash and bruit 
Lapsed with a wailing undertone. 



I ». The while the Council still delayed,— 

I Delayed his wiser speech to hear, 

[ When he his deeper grief had stayed. 

At length to him with words of cheer 
Came the kind-hearted Hosee Noke ; 
His head upraising from the ground, 

He unto Hayo-went-ha spoke. 
Who thence a little comfort found. 



Where he had lain upon the sands 
He sat ; — his trembling knees he pressed ; 

His gray locks, in tear-tangled strands, 
Fell down upon that aching breast. 

But broken was that spell ; allayed 
His grief; him meat they brought and bread ; 

He, sitting mute, his hunger stayed. 
And eating, more was comforted, 



THE COUNCIL. 149 

Erelong amid that faithful band 
He stood as one for honor meet, 

Majestic, fitted to command ; 
Once more with quickened pulses beat 

His heart within a tranquil breast ; 
More brightly glowed his prophet-face, 

As he the joy and peace possessed 
Of Oway-neo's Shining Place. 

Prophet Soul ! to thee allowed, 
As ever to the good and wise, 

To see beyond the storm and cloud 
The glimmer of the morning-rise ; 

And loss like thine, that deeply grieves 
The heart that most ma}^ love confess, 

Upon the chastened spirit leaves 
The seal of every nobleness. 

And if his thought still wandered prone 
. To her, the darling little maid. 

Or her, the mother far and lone. 
No truant tear his grief betrayed. 

The warrior brave alone was seen ; 
His very step — so free and bold — 

Or where he sat, his lofty mien, 
Alone of valorous purpose told. 



150 THE COUNCIL. 



Once more in "Wolf-skin robe arrayed, 
In snowy plume and eagle crest, 

With mighty heart, — its grief allayed — 
With all the greatness of the past 

Again returned, culm as before 
Stood OxGUE Hon-\vee's noblest Chief, — 

The Council called ; remembering more 
His stricken People's greater grief. 

His ro3'al man lie, wove and Avrought 
With to-tsms of his race and name, 

That from Ids f.ice a glory caught, 
Shone like the Council-kindled flame ; 

Where fierce the Tortoise, Wolf, and Bear 
Did frown and glower, as in a cage 

The living beasts were prisoned there, 
And scarce restrained their fiery rage. 

Again he strode with kingly tread, 
Or, mid the ])raves that round him wait, 

Nor token showed of grief or dread, 
Sat — greatest of the chieftains great. 

With grave intent he listened long ; 
Heard many a fiery speaker tell 

Of all his People's woe and wrong. 
Till twilight's deepening shadows fell. 



THE COUNCIL, . 151 

Then rising, brief he spoke ; he said ; — 
" Whom the Great Spirit hath bereft, 

Again — nor all uncomforted — 
Before you stands. Of blessings left 

Than of the lost, he that is wise 
Takes more account ; the ills of Fate 

Blest are to him whose heart relies 
On love of Oway-neo great." 

And — '' What ye spake, braves, I have heard. 
Haste is not meet ; whoso is wise 

Weighs all, and finds the fitting word ; — 
Nor yet too late. To just appraise 

What in our need fiiay profit, seek 
Ye counsel of to-morrow's sun ; 

Again will Hayo-went-ha speak. 
He that has said it, — he is done." 

The slow-departing day has fled, 
The shadows deepen on the land 

Where, all unvexed of coward dread, 
Hope-girded waits that noble band 

Of warrior braves ; their faces lit 
Fierce, like the flames that pale and glow 

As watching late, they wary sit 
Around the camp-fire, blazing low. 



152 THE COUNCIL, 

And silence with the brooding night 
Falls like a mantle over all, 

Save where along the rocky height 
Is heard the Ko-ko-ko-ho's call ; 

The soaring Wa^wa's honking clang, 
Or mournful on the farther sea 

The crying of the lonely Mahng, 
Or waves low-lapsing minstrelsy. 



SPEECH 



— OF 



HAYO-WENT-HA. 



Made potent ivith the might of Sjyeech 
Thought holds the keys of Destiny ; 

And home onfery lips may reach 
And mold the Ages yet to he. 

Whoso can speak the fitting word 
When darkly threatening perils wait. 

His tongue is mightier than the sivord 
To shape a Nation's future fate. 



'■Iff 



SPEECH OF HAYO-WENT-HA. 



Ho ! MY People ! — all ye bands ! 
Okgue Honwe's greatness prove. 

He that now before you stands 
Loves you with a father's love ; 

Love that wrongs still more endear, 
Wrongs this grieving heart has heard. 

All ye wandering tribes give ear ! 
Hearken Hayo-went-ha's word. 



Fierce is your Algonquin foe ; 
Far the wail of sorrow wakes ; 

Noblest braves are bowed in woe, 
Every heart with anguish aches ; 

Dark the wigwams, smouldering, reek, 
Lurid glares the ghastly light, 

Kax-aa's cry and Yong-we's shriek — 
Make more hideous the night. 
21 



156 SPEECH OF HAYO'WENT'HA, 

Brothers ! that before me stand, 
Though of many a lodge and name, 

Though of many a tribe and band, 
One in hope and one in aim, 

And may one in greatness grow, — 
Let not fear your hearts appall ; 

But remembering this our foe 
Is the common foe of all,— 

Hearken ! Ye that far have come, 
Ye that nearer dwell ! — The same 

Unto all alike, is home ; 
Dear the warrior's name and fame ; 

And, — as will your valor prove, 
On the war-path unafraid, — 

Dear is Yong-we's heart of love, 
Dear the wigwam's mat and shade. 

And in warning sign to-day, 
That ye see not, do I see 

In the coming battle-fray 
Must ye more than brothers be. 

By the friendly hand ye reach 
Each to each, ye stand or fall ; 

Only so the good of each 
Finding in the good of all. 



SPEECH OF HAYO-WEXT-HA. 157 

Lo ! this mantle that I bear, 
Mark the hem that glitters so ; 

In each fold, bright woven there, 
See our warrior to-tems show ! 

Part the thongs that interlace, 
All this beauty, wondrous wrought, 

Parted from its use and place — 
Many a piece — the thing were naught. 

Now, alas ! my people all 
Like the separate pieces show ; 

Severed still, they can but fall ; 
Strength nor use nor beauty know;. 

But by loving bond and thong, 
Wove, as is this wondrous vest. 

Then a People great and strong 
And by Oway-neo blest. 

Round this Council Fire to-day 
We may shape the future fate 

Of the tribes, that severed, stray. 
To a Nation wise and great. 

Singly we can never cope 
With these fierce Algonquin bands ; 

Union is our only hope — 
iJnion of our hefirts and hands. 



168 SPEECH OF UAYO'WENT-tiA. 

Ours a common cause must be ! 
But one hope all hearts inspire ; 

But one name, one destiny, 
But one pipe, one Council Fire, 

But one war-club must we know, 
Wielded by one common hand ; 

One war-cry, one warrior-bow, 
But one home, one common land ! 

Brothers ! hearken what I say ! 
Hayo-Avent-ha's words are good ; 

Union is our hope to-day — 
All our hope in brotherhood ! 

If you wise my counsel heed. 
Of the foe that now we fear 

Soon shall all the land be freed. 
Ho ! each separate Tribe give ear ! 

Mohawks^ — 

Ye, whose footstep lightly treads 
Where the Great Tree branches wide 

Far its greening shelter spreads ; 
Ye who in its shade abide ; 

Ye whose hearts are bold and free, 
Ye whose arms are mighty all, 

Shall among the Nations be 
First to wake the Council-call. 



SPEECH OF HAYO-WENT-HA. 159 

Onondagas, — 

Ye, whose habitations nigh 
By the Great Hills peaceful keep ; 

Near by Yo-nond, beetling high, 
Shadowed by its cragged steep ; 

For in that in yon T see — 
In you all — the gifted speech, 

Yours the second place shall be ; 
Great to lead and great to teach. 

Senecas, — 

Ye, whose dwelling-place is M'here 
Wakes Ku-ha-go's sough and moan, 

Ye whose homes are builded fair 
Tn the forest dark and lone ; 

For in that 3''ou greatly show 
Cunning in the hunter chase, 

For your mighty hunter-bow, 
Third shall be your Council-place. 

Oneidas, — 

Ye who in the Council shine — 
On the war-path mighty grown ; 

Ye who strong and great recline 
By the Everlasting Stone ; 

That you counsel always wise, 
Neither weak nor over-bold. 

Shall you great in Council rise, 
Fourth your place in Council hold. 



160 SPEECH OF HAYO-WENT-HA, 

Ye whose homes are buikled nigh 
Where the open country lies ; 

Ye whose wigwams, wide and high, 
Show a skillful hand and wise ; 

For in this, that in your fields 
' Much of corn and beans I see, 

That your patient labor yields. 
Fifth sh.ill in the Council be/' 

Brothers ! that before me stand, 
Though of many a lodge and name, 

Though of many a tribe and band. 
One in hope and one in fame ! 

In this bond united be : 
None shall make your hearts afraid ; 

You a Nation great and free, 
Never foe will dare invade. 

And to 3^ou with feeble hands 
That a fishing people are ; 

And to you the scattered bands 
Widely wandering everywhere. 

Strength shall this alliance lend ; 
So the weaker may not fall. 

But the weakest find a friend 
la the friendliness of all, 



SPEECH OF HAVO-WEXT'HA. 16 j 

May He, Oway-neo great, 
Smile upon your Council-flame, 

And his blessing on you wait-^ 
Heighten more your noble fame ; 

May you dwell, your sorrows passed, 
Happy in the hunter-chase ; 

And your foot-steps tread at last 
Inigorio's Shining Place. 



But dissevered, evermore 
On you shall the fiery frown 

Of the angry Spirit pour ; 
War and famine darken down 

Over all your goodly land, 
Now the land of noble braves ; 

And 3^our wigwams ruined stand,- 
Ruined — by dishonored graves ! 

Often, in war's wild array, 
Shall your dread Algonquin foe 

Come — as he has come to-day — 
Filling all the land with woe. 

Or, agair^, more fierce and bold, 
Come the Adirondack fell, 

You — as from your homes of old- 
From this fairer land expel.'^ 



102 SPEECH OF JIAVO-U ENT-IIA. 

And no brave that coward bleeds 
Shall the after-days recall ; 

All your mighty fame and deeds 
In the war-storm i)erished all ! 

Till on every land and shore 
Where your children joyous throng, 

Shall 3'our names be heard no more 
In the dance and in the song. 

Brothers ! hearken what I say ! — 
Hayo-went-ha's words are good ; 

Union is our hope to-day — 
All our hope in Brotherhood I 

If b}' this, my counsel, led 
Chooso 3'e l)y to-morrow's sun ; 

Hayo-went-ha, he has said — 
Hayo-went-ha, he is done. 



HAYO-WENT-HA'S 
MOURNING. 



22 



Who tells of Life the stortj through^ 
Must of its gloom and shadow show; 

Who sings of Love in numbers true^ 
Must wake at whiles a song of tvoe. 

^0 heart in any human breast 
In any land, in any age^ 

The noblest born, the lowliest, 
But bears a tear- dimmed sorrow-page. 



'***^' W- _*Al^ 



HAYO-WENT-HA'S MOURNING, 

To THE Midnight's brooding star 
Brightly Onondaga shows ; 

On Yo-non-to's summit far 
Faintly dim the watch-fire glows ; 

Loiio the Ko-ko-ko-ho's call 
Echoes from the rocky steep ; 

Hoarse the Wa-wa s honkings fall 
Sad along the lonely deep, 

Lo ! upon the shining sands 
Hayo-went-ha lingers late ; 

Lone the mighty Chieftain stands, 
Brooding dark his sorrow great ; 

On his royal mantle fair 
Sparkles many a costly gem ; 

0-jis-hon-da brightly there 
Tvvinkle in each beaded hem. 



166 hayo-wext-ha's mourning. 



Like a dirge, the sorrow-moan 
That the night-birds, waking, sing 

To his anguislied breast alone. 
Clear the dew-drops pearly cling. 

Glistening on each shrub and tree ; 
Tears are they by Nature shed, — 

Tears of loving sympathy 
For the dear, untimely dead. 

Through the moonlight falling faint 
Where the deeper shadows gloam, 

In the Wa-wo:i-ais-se's plaint 
Hears he still the voice of home ; 

Hears he a lam?nt and sigh 
In the zephyr, winging on ; 

Like his darling's dying cry 
Seems the siofhiu"- of tlie Swan. 



On he Wends in deeper care, 
Pensive on the lonely trail ; 

Lo ! he startles, — what is there ? 
And his cheek is wan and pale : — 

Now is seen — and now is gone, — 
Vanished — like the little maid. 

It is but the frightened fawn 
Springing in the dusky shade. 



hayo-wenT'Ua's mourning. 167 

Slowly, as in anxious quest, 
With a measured step he strides ; 

Greatly heaves his mighty breast, 
As a mighty grief it hides. 

Now he stalks with mournful gaze 
Far along the pebbly strand ; 

Now his troubled feet he stays 
On the blood-besprinkled sand. 



There still lies the awful bird, 
Wide its broken wings are spread : 

Now his deeper soul is stirred, 
Grieving for the loved one dead ; 

To his yearning fatherhood 
Now he bows his lofty pride ; 

Now is loosed the anguished flood 
Where the beauteous maiden died. 

Low he bends upon the sands 
Red with many a crimson stain ; 

Now he wrings his brawny hands 
In his deepening grief and pain ; 

Tears that at their fountain stayed 
Water all the grassy plain — 

Pouring for the little maid 
He shall never see ao:ain. 



168 hayo-wext-ha's mournixg. 

Now lie ill his sorrow cries 
Till the woods with sorrow wake, 

On the night-wind wails and sigha 
As his loving heart would break ; 

Till the lowly listening sea 
Answers from its farther shore ; 

^' Woe is me ! Oh, woe is me ! — 
Woe is me forevermore ! !" 

Other thoughts more poignant stir 
In his heart that wanders prone, 

Pierce and bleeding, unto her, — ^ 
Her, the mother, waiting lone 

In the Yong-we's home and place ; 
Now with tearful eyes and red, 

Soon, alas ! to wail and cry 
For her precious darling dead. 

Up and down the purple shore 
Wanders dark the stricken chief; 

In his sorrow sorrowing more 
For her trouble, pain and grief: 

In the wigwam left behind. 
Mourning for her parted child. 

She will never comfort find 
For her anguish fierce and wild, 



eayO'Went-ha's moukninq. 16 r 

Hark ! — in mnny a sigli and moan, — • 
Oh, alas I that he must go 

In his Chee-maun all alone 
Where Ti-o-to\s billows flow ! 

Evermore to weep and yearn, 
To the wigwam's mat and shade 

How can he again return 
Taking not the little maid ? '^ 

How the bitter tidings bear ? 
Oh, what ill might \w\' betide, 

Seeing Hayo-went-ha there, 
But no maiden by his side ! \ 

How that dearer heart would ache ! i 

Can he meet that tearful gaz.c ? 

Oh, the tender heart uuiy l^reak — 
Oh, the darkened after-days I 

^--- : i 

If to go is sorest grief, 
Not to go — it deepens more; ; 

Who can give her jjain relief, t 

Waiting on that troubled shore ? 

Watching through the lonely day 
Through the lonely night in vain, 

For the loved ones far away, j 

She will never see again. 



170 hayo-wenT'Ha's mourning, 

Nobler soul ! Though uncontrolled 
Is the woe thy bosom knows ; 

In its anguish unconsoled, 
In each loving tear that flows, 

For the loved ones pouring free ; 
In thy pierced and bleeding breast, 

In its pulse of agony 
Is thy greatness more confessed. 

Oh, methinks the mighty heart 
Bravest in the battle-strife, 

Sorrowed, feels a keener smart ! 
He that girds a noble life, 

He that deeds heroic dares, 
Deeds that most do greatness prove, — 

Deeper pain his bosom bears, 
Throbbing with its larger love. 

Yet shall he, so sorely pressed 
By the evil hand of fate, 

Ow^niug in a deeper breast 
Love of Oway-neo great. 

Soonest in the darkened years 
Yield the pain of ills that throng, 

To the medicine of tears, — 
In the Faith Immortal strong. 



THE LEAGUE 



23 



! peerless dream of Brotherhood t 
Thou art Man's noblest heritage; 

The perfect State, the final good. 
That still delays from age to age. 



Thy fairest fruit still ripens late, 
! Tree of Life ! thy blossoms new 

Give rarer promise; — still we wait 
The years to make their promise true* 



THE LEAGUE. 

IiS" ALL his greatness unsubdued, 
Nor trace betra^'ed of sorest grief, 

He wore again his lofty mood — 
He, OnCtUE Hoxwe's noblest Chief; 

In royal mantle rich arrayed, 
The royal mantle woven fair 

That showed in many a to-teni braid 
Inwove, the Tortoise, Wolf and Bear. 



Though in the kindling Council-flame 
They frowned and glowered as in a cage, 

The mighty beasts, and all untamed, 
Could scarce restrain their fiery rage ; — 

They on that tranquil bosom great 
Now low with peaceful look reclined ; 

As if they took the hue and state 
Of-Hayo-went-has mood and mind. 



174 THE LEAGUE. 



Again, — the Council called, — he broke 
The silence with his manly word. 

Though Hayo-went-ha little spoke, 
The waiting braves, that eager heard. 

Rapt hung upon his every tone 
With reverence not unmixed with awe ; 

As if in him, so proud to own 
Their chieftain, they their savior saw. 



" Brothers ! wherefore should I speak ? 
More can Hayo-went-ha say? 

You — the after-thought is weak — 
Heard his word of yesterday ; 

Heard what Hayo-went-ha spake, 
Word of Hayo-went-ha true ; 

Shall to-day the Council lireak, — 
But to-day is left to do. 

'^ Fair the smiles that on us fall 
From Great Oway-neo v/on ; 

Lo ! his cloudy garments all 
Has he taken from the sun ; "^ 

He that sees with clearer sight, 
Knowiug all our heart's desire, 

Mildly, with approving light, 
Brightens on our Council Fire. 



THE LEAGUE. 17^ 

"In His love alone we rest ; 
He be praised for every good i 

So may be our Council blest^ 
And our every foe subdued ; 

Only He can shield from harm 
When our fiercer foes assail ; 

Only in His mighty arm 
May our weaker hand prevail. 

" Brothers ! that must ever be 
One in hope and one in fame, 

In your eyes a light I see 
Brighter than the Council-flame 

When its midnight brightness feH ;^ 
And I augur from its ray 

You have pondered wisely well 
On my word of yesterday. \ 

''Brothers ! that before me stand, 
Though of many a lodge and name, 

Though of many a tribe and band ; 
One in hope, and one in aim ; 

Shall we stand — or shall we fall ? — 
Are my words of counsel good ? 

Are your hands for Union all ? 

Are your hearts for Brotherhood ? " 




176 THE LEAGUE. 

There fell a hush on all the land — 
A hush portentous as a cry ; 

Then with one tongue, one purpose grand, 
In peal on peal that thundered hy, 

Broke from the answering multitude : 
'^Yea! Knee-hah ! Knee-hah ! E-ghe-a!" 

Reechoed from the farthest wood — 
"Yea! Father, Father, yea !^' and "yea!" 

Ere sank the scream of wakened bird 
To silence on the widening plain ; 

Ere Echo there, that startled heard. 
Had ceased to answer back again ; 

Ere stilled afar the lonely Malmg 
Its fright-awakened moan and sigh ; 

The scared Key-oshk its noisy clang, 
The great Ke-neu its stormy cry ; — 

He, Haj'o-went-ha, rose again, 
And silence on the moment fell ; 

He only said : "Ye noble men — 
Ye Ongue Honwe — that is well." 

And what if eyes with tears were dim 
If so thej" most might love confess ; 

He blessed them for their love of him, 
But more for love of nobleness. 



THE LEAGUE. 177 

Then from beneath his .^v^ondrous vest 
He drew the mighty symbol-roll, 

With many a mystic sign impressed — 
A curious hieroglyphic scroll, 

He forth the sacred parcel brojaght 
And on the ground outspread it wide ; 

The snowy parchment dressed and wrought 
Frpm great Skan-0-do's hairy hide/^ 

And every line whose beauty graced 
That picture-writing wide unrolle^d, 

That Hayo-went-ha's hand had traced, 
Of Hayo-went-ha's wisdom told ; 

He, Oway-neo^s Prophet true, 
And greatly taught in knowledge thence, 

Of type and sign and symbol knew 
He all the marvelous secret sense. 



First on that picture-page the sun-^ 
The rising sun — was painted fair; 

The emblem of the Mighty One 
Whose dwelling-place is everywhere. 

And dark was seen the gloomy night 
lietreating on a stormy track ; 

As He alone with shining light 
Could drive the awful shadows back. 



178 THE LEAGUE. ' {' 

\ 

Near, Onondaga's billows were, 
Afar the lofty Yo-nond stood ; 

And many a goodly land and fair 
He pictured — wide with wave and wood ; 

With lake and river, hill and vale, 
And grassy plain outstretched between, 

Where, traced with each familiar trail, 
His scattered People's homes were seen. 

And large umid the sym])ols, framed 
He fierce the Tortoise, W^olf and Bear, 

As in the forest free, untamed ; 
For these their signs armorial were, 

The warriors' royal heraldr}', — 
Their marks and to-tems savage, bold ; 

And seeing, each well knew that they 
Of cunning, patience, valor told. 



And bright beneath the rising sun 
That seemed tlie place to guard and bless, 

Five lofty wigwams all in one 
Were seen, yet separate none the less ; 

And this the sense, the meaning lent: 
The five in one of Union sliowed ; 

And separate none the less, it meant 
The Union wrought of Brotherhood. 



THE LEAGUE 179 

And there were drawn five brawny hands, 
And none were great and none were small ; 

Therein was told — the several bands 
United, should be equal all ; 

And in each hand a bended 1)ow, 
From each an arrow speeding fair ; 

In tliis the picture sought to show 
That all should equal burdens bear. 



Far-shining glowed the Council-flame ; 
Around it mighty sachems sit 

Enrobed in garb of warrior-fame, 
With painted faces, glory-lit ; 

And fairest forms of womanhood ; 
Therein this truth he sought to trace : 

In cares of state — as Woman should — 
Should Woman have her part and place."" 

Bright on her matron brow was shown, 
And glowing like a coronet, 

And on her matron brow alone — 
The royal signet, regal set ; 

And this I read on pictured page, 
Where wisdom's symbols glow and shine : 

In her all titled lineage — 
Through her the sachem's noble line.*" 
24 



3.80 THE LEAGUE. 

Of beasts that roam the wild and wood 
Did savage many a likeness show : 

The fiercer Yek^wai, fat and good, 
The hungry-howling 0-kwa-ho ; 

Skan-o-do with his an tiered head, 
The snowy Wau-bos, tender-eyed, 

The Jit-sho, with his wary tread, 
The Ne-gig with his sleeky hide. 

And nian^^ \x wondrous bird he drew 
That clove the air or swam the sea ; 

The war-bird, him, the great Ive-neu, 
The Wa-wa and the Wau-be-zee ; 

And many a home-bird, such as sings 
To charm the wigwam's waiting rest ; 

The Shaw-shaw with its shiny wing. 
The Wa-won-ais-se's tender breast ; 



Great 0-nust, bright with glowing ears, 
And wigwams glad with happy bands 

And bended bows and sharpened spears, 
And plumed warriors, clasping hands. 

A lofty tree, all leafy-green. 
Outspread its branches high and wide, 

Where sat the sachems wise, serene — 
Iij unity and love allied, 



THE LEAGUE. 181 

Round all his hand a circle drew — 
Hill, vale and mountain, plain and tree ; 

In this was seen the witness true 
Of Union that should endless be. 

A thousand forms their meaning lent j 
Each type and symbol, understood, 

Was seen the sign and instrument 
Of Union and of Brotherhood. 



And every line whose beauty graced 
That strangely-written picture-scroll 

That Hayo-went-ha s hand had traced, 
Of Hayo-went-ha's wisdom tokl; 

And where he stood, he, pointing to 
Device and symbol, speaking thence, 

From each its secret meaning drew, 
Expounding all 'its wondrous sense. 

Then forth the wampum-belt was brought : 
The precious beads were wove and strung. 

Each with its mystic meaning fraught ; 
The belt that speaks with wondrous tongue — - 

The symbols' import still unfolds 
That on the snowy parchment stood ; 

The covenant and record holds — 
Deed of that noble Brotherhood.^^ 



1S2 thf: league. 



And when into each shining strand 
Was braided all their thought's intent, 

Unto the wisest sachem's hand 
He gave the mighty instrument ; ^* 

To guard and keep its sacred page 
Interpret all its mystery. 

Its prudent laws, its precepts sage, — 
To make a people great and free. 

And, counseling each chieftain brave 
As he liTcd been a worthy son, 

He unto ejich his blessing gave 
As forlh he called them — one by one, 

To paint and trace with willing hand 
Beneath the Tortoise, Wolf and Bear, 

The to-tems of each lodge and band, 
Their names and tribal to-tems there. 



Then Ovvay-neo's Prophet true — 
Great Hayo-went-ha, wise and good. 

Who forth the dusky nations drew. 
Who foremost in the Council stood ; 

Who stayed with love war's wasting brand, 
Quelled olden feud and fell intrigue, — 

Sealed with his noble name and hand 
That Aquan-uschi-oni League. 



THE FEAST. 



HowTiad it marred the joy complete^ 
The sweet content from dangers passed, 

If they, who now to hreah their fast, 
Of least, of bread, of fish did eat, — 

" Who with the Master sat at meat, 
Uad Tcnown that feast would he the last. 



THE FEAST. 



Three times had climbed the morning sun, 
Kow hanging at his highest noon ; % 

Three times on midnight shadows dun 
The flaming camp-fire light had shone ; i 

Three days beside the foaming sea .« 

The counseled warrior-braves had stood ; « 

Ere long for mighty deeds to be 
Renowned, — a noble Brotherhood! 



Though fear had fanned the Council-flame, 
Hope sweetly brightened on its close ; 

And weaker hearts, that trembling came, 
Would valiant meet their fiercer foes ; 

A thousand warriors, painted gay, 
Elate of friendly Union won, 

Would wait the feast, then far away 
Would bear the joyful tidings on. 



1^6 THE FEAST. 



Three days they had not tasted meat, 
But with sublimest purpose wrought^ 

Toiling through fast to make complete 
The fabric of their mighty Thought ; 

Shaped in those fearful Council-days, 
To live when all the braves had passed ; 

That all the after years should praise :- 
Kow they again would break their fast. 



With savor that did nlost delight 
Each hungry sonse, — so sweet and good 

In many a bowl all snowy white, 
The Scho-ta-sa-min baking stood ; 

Great 0-nust, smoking, waited hot 
In many a cake ; the hunters' game 

Steamed fragrant in each earthen pot, 
Hung reeking round the hissing flame. 

The fruit of many a hunter-bow : 
Skan-o-do from the leafy wood 

The hungry-howling 0-kwa-ho, 
The fiercer Yek-wai fat and good ; 

The wily Be-zhu prowling dread. 
The Me-sha-way with antlers wide. 

The Jit-sho \vith his wary tread, 
The snowy Wau-bos tender-eyed. 



THE FEAST, 13T 

With many a scaly beast that leaps 
And flounders in the watery caves ; 

Great Do-di-ah-to from the. deeps. 
The Sah-wa from the shallow waves ; 

Jik-on-sis with his speckled breast, 
0-nok-sa glistening like the morn, 

Da-hin-da in his shining vest, 
U-no-wul in his shell of horn. 

And many a bird that ran or flew : 
The Ta- wis and the Oghk-we-se, 

The So-ha-ut of sable line, 
The Ka-ka and the Kwa-ra-re. 

And many a fowl that clanged the spring : 
The quacking So-ra from the brake, 

The Wau-be-zee with downy wing, 
The honking Wa-wa from the lake. 

Great Ke-ka-dah-nong on the sand, 
Kwan-Run-ge-a-gosh on the tide ; — 

All creatures of the sea and land 
Had yielded up their lives and died, v 'i; sj; > 

Of fish and reptile, bird and beast, '•' 
Or named or nameless, there and then : 

Was wide outspread the jaiighty fea&t 
To feed a thousand hungry men.*^ 
25 



Ib6 THE FEAST, 

And Hayo-went-lia, rising there, 
While brightened more his prophet-face, 

With presence meet and reverent air, 
He murmured simplest words of grace :-^ 

'' Be unto the Great Spirit praise ; 
Lo ! has he all our wants supplied ; 

If grateful hearts we bear always, — 
So shall he evermore provide/' 

As mindful of all courtesy 
And just respect to greatness due, 

They of the parts that sweetest be 
Of bird or beast or soup or stew, — 

Though waiting sore with hunger pressed, 
Their honored Chief to honor more, 

Of all the parts they chose the best 
And unto Hayo-went-ha bore.^* 

Then unto each, or chief or brave. 
They brought, nor overlooked the least ; 

But as is fit, in order gave 
To each a portion of the feast ; 

From roasting meat, or steaming pot, 
With flesh of beast, or fowl or fish, 

Or cake of 0-nust, smoking hot, 
Was oft refilled each empty dish. 



THE FEAST. 189 

As glad they would the hour delay, 
In free, but not unseemly mirth. 

With laugh and jest they whiled the day ; 
With friendly gossip, little worth, 

Or story humorous did grace 
The social hour, — or interspersed 

The bold adventures of the chase ; 
Or deeds of other days rehearsed; 

Nor ended was that goodly feast 
Till last of all the hunter's game, 

Of fish or reptile, bird or beast, 
TJiat hung around the hissing flame. 

By hand with hunger's strength imbued, 
Each bone from bone was torn and cleft ; 

Still ate and ate the multitude 
Till all were filled, and naught was left. 

Then forth the waiting pipe was brought ;" 
Unto the genial, calm content 

The feast in every breast had wrought, 
Its cheerful, soothing solace lent ; 

And touched as with enchanter's wand, 
Their eyes beyond the wreathing mist 

Far-looking, saw the Shining Land,— 
The happy Spirit's Home and rest. 



190 THE FEAST. 

While as the long day slowly wore, 
Apart the patriarchs sedate 

Sat pensive, as they thoughtful bore 
The burdens and the cares of state ; 

Or, so they thought to understand 
The will — so little understood — 

Of him, the mighty Wa-zhar-wand, — 
Still pondering on their people's good. 

With bony quoits and plum-stone dice, 
With each its number, place and rank 

On which is carved a strange device, — 
And these do count, and those are blank,- 

The 3^outhful warriors stand or sit 
To take in turn their chance and throw ; 

Their faces weird and passion-lit, 
In wizard game of Kun-ta-soo. 

Now one elate, the bowl he shakes, 
But turns unlucky number, — fails ; 

Another hand the venture takes, — 
Perchance a lucky cast prevails ; 

He that has lost his shaft and bow. 
Will find a better fortune yet ; 

The next may be a happy throw — 
He higher piles the stake and bet. 



/ 



THE FEAST. 191 

The eagle-plumes that him arrayed, 
His pipe that sweetest solace brought, 

His costly belts of wampum-braid, 
His pouches — all his hands have wrought, 

He stakes upon uncertain throws, 
The very moccasins he wears ; 

Or, as the game to frenzy grows. 
The wolf-skin robe his bosom bears. 



And some, the braves of lighter mood. 
Whose joy in wildest echoes r^ing. 

Along the sward or sat or stood 
Or ran or wrestled, whooped or sang ; 

While from each string, swift-speeding free, 
Afar the willing arrows sped ; 

Or darkly clashed on barky tree 
The flinty war-ax, winging dread. 

Or wide anon the challenge ran 
With many a noisy shout and call, 

As chose the leaders each his man 
For nobler game of Bat and Ball. 

They here the nearest limit set, 
And there they fix the farthest goal ; 

Still piling high the stake and bet 
Of blankets, weapons, trinkets — all.'*' 



192 THE FEAST. , 

Then midway there the ball they brought; 
Tossed high in air ; each waiting bat 

Of hundred arms, and stalwart, sought 
To catch it ; while this way and that 

It whirled and sped along the plain ; — 
Now this, and now that bound was nigh ; 

Then stayed ; — in triumph back again 
Was brought — with scuffle, shout and cry. 

Still each with each did strive and cope — 
Did race and scamper back and forth ; 

And each in turn elate with hope. 
As east or west or south or north, 

Swept by the- adverse struggling throng, 
It leaped and tossed and bounded on ; 

Until, by him most fleet and strong 
Borne past the goal, the game was won, 

^ 9^ Sp •)( 3]C 

While yet the feast betokened glad 
Where late the solemn council broke, 

Sat Hayo-went-ha, brooding sad, 
And little ate and nothing spoke ; 

As bowed in fear or wrapped in awe. 
Or felt the touch of sorrow dim ; 

Some waiting grief ; — whatever he saw, 
The shadow darkened but to him, 



THE FEAST. 193 

Swift wore the day in joy and mirth : 
On noblest deed of Union won 

Fair smiled the glory-mantled earth 
Lit by the slow-descending sun. 

And with the falling peace and rest 
That lay on all the forest dim, 

There kindled in each dusky breast 
The thought of home that waited him. 



^>^h 



Again at Hayo-went-ha s call 
His lowly People listening stood ; 

A thousand warriors, valiant all, 
And now a noble Brotherhood ; 

Their footsteps lightly nearer drew- 
In silence pressed the grassy sward ; 

To yield to him the reverence due, 
The dear regard, love's best reward. 



11 



Through gloomy miles of wooded wild 
He sees the wigwam bright arrayed ; 

He sees, perchance, a wife and child '^^l 

Sit trembling, of the foe afraid. ."j 

Or the young brave, late lightly gay, i; ;" 

Feels all his manly bosom yearn t ; ; 

Unto the maiden far away. 
Now lonely waiting his return. /^ "" I 



194: THE FEAST. 

The westering sun tliat tranquil shone 
Seemed burdened Avith a mourn fulness ; 

Or something in his deeper tone — 
Portent of what they might not guess, 

They felt, when Hayo-went-ha spoke ; — 
Foreboding sad, though none might tell 

What grief presaged, that darkly woke 
The troubled dread of coming ill. 

No brow but shoAved a trace of care, 
No eye but free bedewed the plain 

With tears, as Yo-yo-hon-to there 
Ran — brimming with the summer rain.- 

And close and closer round him drew 
The braves, the while their hearts were stirred 

To listen to his last adieu, — 
To Hayo-went-ha's parting word. 



*l 



HAYO-WENT-HA'S 
PARTING WORDS 



S6 



A new Evangel greater than 
The world has hnoirri, the Ages wait; 

To every race, or soon or late, 
Is horn a Tnith- inspired Man — 

Some spirit ivise to teach and lead: 
And happy they who, high or lotv, 

Their risen Prophet^ seeing, hnotv; 
His wiser precepts hark and heed. 



HAYO-WENT-HA'S PARTING WORDS. 

Brothers I — that before me stand 
Brothers ! I do h)ve you well ; 

Hearken ! Brothers hearken ! ! — and 
Do not grieve for that I tell ; 

Haj^o-went-ha takes to-day 
For the hist your parting hand ; 

Hayo-went-ha goes away, — 
Goes he to the Spirit Land. 

He can see a glory shine 
You may see not ; and from thence 

Comes the warning and the sign : 
Hayo-went-ha hastens hence ; 

Leaves you at the close of day, 
Leaves you at the set of sun ; 

Hayo-went-ha may not stay, 
Hayo-went-ha's work is done. 



198 HAYO-WENT-HAS PARTING WORDS. 

my People ! unto you 
All these years, and not in vain, 

Has he been as father true. 
Bearing all your grief and pain ; 

And each widely scattered band, 
Dwelling in the farthest wood, 

Has he taught to understand 
Well his precepts wise and good. 

Taught 30U how to build with pride 

Homes where comforts more abound ; 
Build 3'our v/igwams high and wide, 

Softly nuitting all the ground ; 
Of the to-teiii's u e jmd i)lace, 

Of the Tortoise, AVolf, and Bear- 
All the symbols of our race ; 

Of the Wampum, ])raided fair. 

Toiling, he with patient hand 
Widened all the grassy plain ; 

Cleared the rivers ; by his hand 
Were the frightful monsters slain j 

Made he fairer hunting-grounds. 
Where Skan-o-do, 0-kwa-ho — 

All the nobler game abounds ; 
Wrought for you the hunter-bow. 



ffArO-JTENT-HA's PARTING WORDS, 199 

All the flinty missiles wrought ; 
Shaped the arrow, strung the bow 

With such mighty blessings fraught ; 
All their use he showed to you. 

All the good of labor born : 
How to mellow well the. fields ; 

How to tend the springing Corn, 
That such grateful bounty yields. 

Now, where in remembered years 
Only frightful monsters trod, 

Shine great 0-nust's luscious ears, 
Scho-ta-sa-min's wondrous pod ; 

And the fiirthest valleys show 
Fair in Autumn's windy days, 

Happy maids that come and go, — 
Bearing home the ripened maize. 

Often, where might knowledge show 
Most her sacred mystery 

Unto him that yearns to know, 
In his Chee-maun journeyed he 

Far away ; — again returned : 
Seeking — wisdom sought to find ; 

More life's deeper secrets learned, 
Bringing thence a wiser mind. 



200 hayO'Went-ha's parting words. 



Standing in the Council-place 
Has lie taught you to be strong 

In the battle, in the chase ; 
Ever swift to right the wrong, 

And no less the good requite — 
To be wise as to be great ; 

Taught you that the arm of might 
Must on Oway-neo wait. 

Though the warrior's noble crown 
Is the trophy and the scar, 

And the glorious renown 
Won in honorable war ; — 

Taught he of a fairer fame 
With all manliness arrayed ; 

By the home-delighting flame — 
By the wigwam's mat and shade. 



And the fairest gift of all 
That his willing hand has wrought, 

That shall never darkly fall, 
But with fullest blessing fraught 

To all people everywhere, 
Dwellers in the farthest wood, 

Shall a proud example bear, — 
Is this Bond of Brotherhood. 



bato-went-ha's parting words, 201 

It throngli all the years shall live, 
Till all nobleness shall fail ; 

And to eacli protection give, 
That no foe may dare assail ; 

But in c()ward weakness flee-— 
Flee in trembling terror, when 

On the w-ar-path bold they see 
Aquan--uschi-oni Men."^ 

Brothers ! that before me stand, 
You my People's bond and stay, 

Chiefs and braves of many a band — 
Builders of the coming day ; 

Brothers ! as I still were near, 
Be ye bold raid brave and true ; 

Listen ! while you still may hear,— 
Hayo-went-ha's words are few. 

Brothers ! keep the Council-flame 
Bright as is to-day its blaze ; 

And, that more your name and fame 
Heighten in the after-days, 

Know ye, who to lead and teach 
Foremost in the Council stand, 

He who wisest is in speech, 
He is greatest in the land. 



202 HAY0-WENT-liA8 FARTiyG WORDS, 



Brothers ! Avlien you come and go 
On the war-path far and fleet, 

When you bear the hunter-bow 
On the hills with flying feet ; — 

Where you roam or where you dwell, 
Let your mighty deeds confess, — 

As I still were with you — tell 
Oi^^GUE HoNWE s nobleness. 



Far, by rivers (lowing free, 
Where the great hills stretch amain, 

Near, l^eside the murmuring sea, 
Over all tlie vale and phiiu. 

Glad and joyous everywhere 
Shall your wigwams brightly throng ; 

And the twilight falling fair 
Light the dance and wake the song. 

So shall all your after-fame 
Find no less a shining place ; 

Bearing many a noble name 
Worth}' of our noble race ; 

And your deeds to latest days 
Farthest wigwam-homes beside, 

Shall your children's children praise- 
Call your names with love and pride. 



MATO'WENT-HAS PARTING WOBDS. 20S 

And the People far away 
By the Gitche Gumee flood, 

Pointing to your homes shall say : 
" Lo ! a mighty Brotherhood ! 

All are brothers — that is well." 
And no fear may darken then 
On your path, for all shall tell : 
" OiTGUE HoNWE — Mighty Men ! " 

And the Nations that shall stand 
In the future, bold and free, 

Thickly thronging all the land 
Like the pebbles by the sea, — 

From example wise and good 
Shall they to all greatness grow, 

To a mighty Brotherhood ; 
And all men be bettered so/' '^ 

Brothers ! wherefore do you weep ? 
Be ye bold and brave and true ; 

Brothers all — my precepts keep, 
And my love I leave with you ; 

Oway-neo high above, 
Shield you from each base intrigue ; 

Shield you with his mighty love, 
Strengthen more this Bond and League. 
27 



204: hayO'WenT'Ha's parting words. 



Brothers ! I do take to-day 
For the last 3^0 ar parting hand ; 

Hayo-went-ha goes away — 
Goes he to the Better Land ; 

He can see a glory shine 
You may see not, and from thence 

Comes the warning and the sign,- 
Hayo-went-ha hastens hence. 

Inigorio the Good — 
May his Spirit witli you dwell ; 

Brothers ! — noble Brotherhood ! 
Okgue Hojs^we, fare you well. 

Be you by my counsels led, 
Keep my precepts every one ; 

Hayo-went-ha, — he has said, 
Hayo-went-ha ^ — he is done. 



HAYO-WENT-HA'S 
DEPARTURE. 



If but a dream, a dream divine 
The Poets sing, the Painters paint: 

That hrow of Prophet and of Saint 
With glory* s morning splendors shine. 



Or is it thus the Gods decree ? 
And all the nobler Souls that go, 

Bright haloed rise, transfigured so? 
Clothed on tvith Immortality ! 



HA YO -WENT-H A' S DEPARTURE 



Fair in the lessening light he stood 
He, Oway-neo's Prophet great ; 

Bright glowed his form as if imbued 
With something of immortal state ; 

With rarer light his quickened soul 
Had interfused his grosser clay, 

As soon to win life's crown and goal — 
To tread the waiting Halls of Day. 

In royal mantle rich arrayed, 
The royal mantle woven fair, 

That showed in many a to-tem braid 
Inwove, the Tortoise, Wolf, and Bear, — 

In moccasins Avith the marvelous hem 
And snowy leggins, beaded grand. 

Inwrought with many a curious gem, — 
He trod the Onondaga strand. 



208 HAYO-WENT-UA'iS DEPARTURE, 



And forth again the wondrous barge 
From out its secret place he brought ; 

Bore softly to the pebbly marge 
The bark by mystic fingers wrought ; 

The Chee-maun blest of Manito, 
Nor paddle had — nor need of one, 

That swiftly on, and onward drew 
When Hayo-w^ent-ha willed it on. 



It erst had many a storm withstood ; 
Him with his mighty bow it bore 

To slay the monsters of the flood ; 
And, oft in halcyon days before, 

To far Ti-o-to, bright im pearled, 
When love lit all the pebbly strand : 

Love ! that beautifies the world — 
Makes every land a summer-land ! 

Upon the flaming wings of morn, 
With valor's quickened pulse imbued, 

Oft to the Council-place had borne 
Him, Hayo-went-ha, great and good ; 

And far on many a stranger sea : 
Whei'ever most might knowledge loose 

Her sacred seal, or glory be ; — 
But now should prove its nobler use. 



HAYO'Went-ha's departube. 209 

Like pilgrim home-returning late 
With eager feet, it lightly pressed 

The springing tide, as loth to wait 
To bear him to his peace and rest ; 

To gently bear him, fleet and free 
To faintly glimmering isles away, 

Beyond the land, beyond the sea, 
Beyond the fading rim of Day, 

Yet where the billow lightly laves 
He lingers on the pebbly strand 

Amid the well-beloved braves, — 
Delays — to take the parting hand ; 

As bearing iu a father's heart 
The love, the grief no tongue can tell ; 

As loth to stay, as loth to part, 
Delays he still the last farewell. 

Or saddened at their grief and tears. 
The noble warriors, true and tried ! 

Or tender thought the spot endears 
Where she, the little maiden died ; 

Or would his anguished spirit stay 
Where weeping loved ones strive and mourn ? 

Or 3^earns his heart to her away — 
Nyah-tah-wanta, reft and lorn ? 



210 hayO'Went-ha's departure. 

She by Ti-o-to waiting him : 
Lone watching till the day is done, 

Lone watching through the midnight dim, 
Lone watching till the morning sun ; 

She that his heart had sweetly blessed, 
Made glad the wigwam's mat and shade. 

Who now might soothe that aching breast, 
Prone in its anguish disarrayed ? 

No more to run with e:igor feet 
To greet him on the waiting shore ! 

What grief and jjaiu with her to meet ! 
But not to meet, it deepens more. 

And oh ! to eyes that tearful be 
How dim would show the Halls of Day ; 

How could he dwell content, and she, 
Nyah-tah-wanta, far away ? 

Or fairer than the kindling dawn. 
In widening sundown flaring red. 

Sees he the little maiden gone — 
Sees he the father's darling dead ? 

Dead ? — Nay ! but in that Better Land 
And radiant in all virgin charms 

Sees he the beauteous maiden stand. 
Or sweetly clasped in loving arms. 



hayo-went-ha's departure, 211 

Sees he the forms of chieftains old, 
Familiar shapes of noble braves, 

The vanished shades of warriors bold ; 
Above the glory-bounded waves 

They beckon him, they glow and shine, 
The wider Hunting Grounds they roam ; 

And waits he but the day's decline 
To waft him to that dearer home. 



Low sinks the slow-descending sun : 
Now on the sward his people throng, 

To so — until the day is done — 
A little space his stay prolong ; 

Around him press with eager feet, 
Or hurry to the parting place ; 

To yield to him the reverence meet, — 
To clasp him in a last embrace. 

Fair on the tide the orb of Day 
Hangs like a shield of warrior-fame ; 

Now level shoots his fiery ray 
Like warrior-arrow, tipped with flame, 

A glory on the wave and wood ; 
Far-brightening all the sea and wold, 

Now crimson in the burnished flood 
He dips his shining disk of gold. 
28 



-^^\ 



^12 hayo-went-ha's depabtube. 

Still on the softlj-miirmuring marge 
His latest, lingering footsteps show, 

Where lightly waits the mystic barge 
For Hayo-went-ha, soon to go ; 

All glory-mantled stands the Chief, 
As touched with an immortal spell ; 

In pity for his People's grief, 
Delays he still the last farewell. 

Lo ! now he takes the parting hand ; 
Lo ! now is said the parting word ; 

Now parts the Chee-maun from the strand- 
Goes speeding like the wing of bird 

Far on the billows looming large ; 
The warriors brave, in sorrow new, 

Gaze tearful on that fleeting barge ; 
He beckons back a last adieu. 

Now faintly from the fading shore 
Sad hears he on the widening sea : 
*'0 Knee-ha ! Knee-ha ! — nevermore ! 
Father ! Father !— woe is me ! !" 

Still fainter to his ear arise 
His people's anguished cry and moan 

For Hayo-went-ha great and wise— 
For noble Hayo-went-ha gone. 



HAYO'WENT-Ha's defabtube, 213 

A song, like the Immortars song, 
Now thrills each lowly, aching breast, 

Far-wakes the tranquil shores along, 
Lulls the low-lapsing waves to rest ; 

Charms all the rapt, enchanted strand, 
Soft trembles on the listening sea. 

As dwellers in the Shining Land 
There woke their joyous minstrelsy. 

Now more the shadows deepen down : 
On all that sorrow deepens more, 

That sweetest music may not drown ; 
More faint along the dusky shore, 

The voices from the bright Beyond 
In wonder- waking song are heard, — 

More tender than love's yearnings fond, 
And sweeter than the song of bird. 

Thence had the Shining Spirits come, 
Low-wandering from the shores of Dawn, 

To bear great Hayo-went-ha home. 
From toil and grief of earth withdrawn ; 

On airy pinions bear him hence — 
Above life's weaker part upborne ; 

To taste the bliss and recompense 
Of Virtue on the Hills of Morn. 



214 hayo-wenT'Ha's departure. 

Still far the sunset's fierj^ glow 
Trails reddening o'er the crystal wells ; 

The cloven waves like rubies show — 
A warmer wish the bark impels ; 

Still on, and on ; — now high in air; 
Still up, and on — more darkly dim ; 

Still up, away ; — now seeming fair 
On pearly clouds to dance and swim. 

More faint and far — more fleet and free, 
To where the shadows come and go ; 
! Beyond the land — beyond the sea — 

j Beyond the daylight's fading glow ; 

To Oway-neo's Home ; away 
Beyond where sunset-glory smiles ; 
j Beyond the gateways of the Day, — 

} To Inigorio's Happy Isles. 



THE BROKEN HEART. 



Who holds this hut a doubtful creed :— < 
All sorrow hath its use and need; 

The keenest anguish, most intense 
That ever suffering bosom bore, 
Its after -joy may heighten more; 

Nopairk hit hath its recompense^ 



And you, tender Soul ! if such 

There be, who never felt the tou^h 
Of sore affliction's sting and smart, — 

Had never sorrow to assuage ; 

Turn back, — nor read this tearful page- 
This story of a broken heart. 



THE BROKEN HEART, 

The lofty oak that proudly stands 
To drink the summer's sun and rain. 

The glory of the forest-lands, 
A beauty on the verdured plain, — 

Though it the tempest spares alone, 
Though cloven through its robe of green, 

Bereft of branches, wildly strown, 
Will weave anew its leafy screen, 

Yet grows no tree in all the wood, 
In all the grove-eminantled vale, 

That blooms to charm the solitude 
And glad the morning's breath inhale,^ 

But, if rude hand with hapless art 
Deep ring the barky gtem around 

Whence flows the sap to feed the hearty 
Will? withered, topple to the ground, 



218 THE BliOKKN HEART. 



So, when the flools of anguish break 
Fierce on the soul in storm and gloom, 

Though leaving but a faded wreck 
Of fond affection's leafy bloom, 

Unsevered from love's kindly root, 
When passed the tempast-tiding grief, 

The riven heart may newly shoot, — 
The blighted life renew its leaf. 



But quench in over-anguished breast 
The lire that lights its secret shrine ; 

Take from it every good possessed, 
Let IL)pe her failing Limp resign ; 

Make ever}" pulse a throb of care, 
A deathless p:ing of memory ; 

Make longing vain, and love despair, 
And life itself will cease to be. 



And long, loyal heart and true ! 
Amid the forest solitude, 

Beside Ti-o-to's glimmering blue 
Nyah-tah-wanta lonely stood ; 

The hmg, long da}', Avith longing vain, 
Gazed — till her eyes with tears were dim ; 

Heard in the billows' sad refrain 
Alone love's mournful requiem. 



THE BROKEN HEART, 219 



Though eager looked her tearful eyes 
To see some home-returning trace, 

Oh, never on her sight would rise 
That Chee-maun from the "Council-plaee ! 

Nor form of him, beloved, for whoni 
She patient watched each lonely day; 

Whose smile alone could light the gloom,- 
Could kindle new life's failing ray. 

Still up and down her footsteps pressed, 
Unmarked the shadows falling dim' ; 

She, wearied, felt no weariness-. 
But only care for her and him ; 

For her, the little maiden sweet, 
Joy of the life from whence it grew ; 

For him so wise and good and great, 
Who might the wigwam's joy renew. 

The dews of midnight cold and wet 
Fell on her woman's brow of care. 

Till silvered shone each tress of jet ; 
Though late with aching brow and bare 

She waited on the troubled shore. 
She heeded not the falling chill ; 

But felt her sorrow deepen more, 
But felt the fear foreboding ill ;— >■ 
29 



220 THE BROKEN HEART. 

Still straining; wide her tearful sight 
Along the billows far away ; 

Sad watching through the lonely night, 
Sad watching through the lonely day 

Till dark the shadows fell again, 
Nor recked of hunger's gnaw and smart ; 

But felt love's keener fast and pain, — 
The fiercer hunger of her heart. 

If fain at whiles her mat to press, 
She sought the wigwan> waiting lone, 

Ka ple^p Buch anguished eyes Avould bless ^- 
Would charm the lids so tearful grown ; 

For haunting dark her tender breast 
.Would come the thought of pain and dread : 

No more that widowed couch of rest 
Might pillow sweet each dearer head. 

Or, when through many a cloudy cleft 
,Wo-ne-da's softened splendors smiled, 

She, rising thence, and more bereft, 
Forth by love's waning hope beguiled, 

Afar with hapless feet would stray, 
With mournful step, more feeble growft \ 

To watch the orient's kindling ray 
And harlc Ti-o-to's rippled moan, 



r^ 



THE BROKE y HEART. 221, 

To gaze along the foaming deep 
She early came, she lingered late, 

To weep and watch, to watch and weep, — 
A stricken soul and desolate. 

And many a night, and many a day 
Her failing footsteps went and came 

Along the darkened home-led way, — 
Hope lighting faint life's flickering flame. 

Still o'er the sward she came and went, \ 

Still seeming more a passing shade — ^ 

Some brightness for a moment lent ; 
Till prone beside tlie withered glade ; 

The paling Summer weeping sat, 
To miss the dear, familiar tread ; | 

While fevered on her lowly mat 
Low-moaning lay that gentle head. 



Now through her half-forgotten care 
A gladness murmured in her breast, 

As Hayo-wcnt-ha, he was there, 
Or her, the maiden form, she pressed ; 

Or other dear ones seemed to rise, 
Seen through death's gathering mist and haze; 

The loving sire, the deeper eyes 
That brightened on her infant days. 



THE BROKEN HEART. 



And low she called each cherished name, 
As though she saw them bending there ; 

Yet o'er the sward no footstep came — 
None saw her passing grief and care ; 

But Midnight, listening on the plain, 
Heard from the wigwam, glooming nigh, 

A shriek — and all was still again — 
As if a Spirit shuddered by. 



Along the sea the lonely Mahng 
His troul)led song more lonesome woke : 

The great Da-hin-da sober sang, 
As grief had touched his hoarser croak ; 

The Ko-ko-ko-ho's mournful cr}^ 
The Wa-won-ais-se's sorrow-plaint, 

0-me-me's tender moan and sigh, — 
Came from the Avood more sadly faint. 

Sad broke the Morning, dim and pale, 
Ti-o-to murmured on the reef; 

The Sun, behind his cloudy veil, 
Looked — tearful with a later grief; 

The Home-wind wailed along the shore. 
The forest felt a shivering dread ; 

Nyah-tah-wanta came no more — 
Nyah-tah-wanta, she was dead. 



I 



THE BROKEN HEART, 223 

No loving heart or eye o'erbent 
That darkened couch — her shroud and tomb, 

Whose life with anguish overspent 
Went out amid night's lonely gloom ; 

With none to watch beside the dead, 
To close the dear lids, staring vain ; 

To make for her a lowly bed — 
A grassy grave along the plain. 



NAr 



^Jr 



Yet He, whose love is over all, 
Whose helping hand is ever nigh. 

Who hears the broodling sparrows call. 
Nor lets their little want go b}^ — 

To beast and bird and reptile lent 
Its meaner life, and not in vain, 

Low by that couch in pity bent. 
To soothe its frenzied pulse of paiu. 



And angels from the starry shore 
Came o'er the midnight's track of gloom^ 

Watched by that wigwam's lowly door 
To bear a suffering spirit home. 

On airy pinions far and fleet 
Above life's weaker part upborn ; 

To taste the bliss, the rapture meet 
Of Virtue on the Hills of Morn. 



224 THE BBOKEN HEART, 

No more to wait with tearful eyes 
Beside Ti-o-to's darkened strand ; 

But joyous as the morning-rise 
Far-journeying to the Better Land ; 

To Oway-neo's Home, away 
Beyond where sunset-glory smiles ; 

Beyond the gateways of the day,-^ 
To Inigorio's Happy Isles. 






THE BETT'EiR LAND 






The child upon its mother^ s hreastf 
From petty pain and sorrow free, 

Finds all it dreams of peace and rest, 
Nor Tcnotvs if other Heaven may he. 

So every Soul, or soon or late, 
Led hy the Father's loving hand, 

And each as is its need and state, 
Will find at length that Better Land, 



'""'"^^v-iTi^./V 



THE BETTER. LAND. 

World of Time ! wert thou the whole, 
Whose outward aspect darkly shows, 

Nor lived beyond the chastened Soul, 
Nor more divinely fair arose, 

And more in joy and beauty grown 
In years that are Eternity, — 

Did life no Life Immortal own. 
Were it not better not to be ? 

No path but is by sorrow crossed, 
No spot but is bedewed with tears ; 

No loving heart but it hath lost 
Some treasure, loss still more endears. 

To all, the troubled days that pass 
Bring endless labor, little gain ; 

Or brief delights that leave, alas ! 
But keener sense of after-pain. 
30 



THE BETTER LAND. 



Oh ! to behold with clearer sight 
The good that Providence designs ; 

Unseen, or only in the light 
That far along the ages shines ; 

To know that nothing is of chance, 
All evil for a purpose meant ; 

That discipline of circumstance 
Is evermore beneficent. 



Oh ! for the faith to realize — '^ 

The truth-illumined mind to know 

That He, the only Good and Wise, 
But portions each or weal or woe. 

As joy or grief may nurture more 
The Flower that springs from Virtue's root ; 

That blooms on Love's immortal shore, 
And happiness its ripened fruit. 



He, Oway-neo's Prophet true, 
That hunter-bow and shaft had wrought i 

Who forth the Dusky Nations drew, 
Them all the good of labor taught ; 

Who strengthened all the weaker hands. 
Who greatest in the Council stood. 

Who gathered all the scattered bands 
Into a noble Brotherhood ; — 



THE BETTER LAND. 229 



Who toiled and suifered here below 
Through all the years — and not in vain, 

Whose heart had l)orne a mighty woe, 
Felt all the pangs of mortal pain ; 

The portion that has ever been 
Of kingly souls whose feet have pressed 

The heights of woe, to enter in 
The bright Immortals' home and rest ; — 

Unto his kindred, tribe and race, 
To shores and wigwams looming large 

Returning, to his home and place, — 
Drev/ on the shore that mystic barge 

By snowy tents that sliimmering stand 
On hills fair in the setting sun ; 

Sojourned ho in that Better Land, 
Hi$ sorrows passed, his labors done. 

And oft when sundown falling red. 
With ruby lights the Hesper-rim, 

While musing on the loved and dead, 
While brooding sad the thought of him 

The noblest of his noble Race, i 

Above the purple clouds of even \ 

Methinks I see his Prophet-face ': 

Look smiling from that peaceful heaven. 



230 THE BETTER LAND, 

Nor his alone : — where brightly laves 
The sea of gold that fairer shore, 

I see the well-remembered braves, — 
The mighty of the days before ; 

There in the Spirit's Shining Home 
They dwell, — all the departed great ; 

The wider Hunting Grounds they roam. 
More glorious in their after-state. 

There do I see, with gleaming crest, 
In all the lofty pride he bore, 

Great Ot-o-tar-ho, he Vv^liose breast 
Of living snakes the cordon wore ; 

Whose 1)0 wis and spoons from which he fed- 
His dishes all — were carved and wrought 

Out of the skulls of warriors dead. 
The trophies from the battle brought/' 

There all the Ot-o-tar-ho line, 
Seen on Tradition's fading page ; 

Names that, however dim they shine. 
Make regal that heroic age. 

When boldest heart and strongest hand 
Alone might cope with monsters dread ; 

With Serpent fierce that roamed the land, 
With Giant huge, ,or Flying Head. 



THR BETTER LAND. 231 

There all the mighty chieftains be 
Of later days that dark unrolled ; 

Whereof with tongue of Prophecy 
The noble Hayo-went-ha told ; 

When over all the land should tread — 
Should throng a People great and free ; 

Thick as the leaves by Autumn shed, 
Or as the pebbles ])}' the sea. 



Sa-go-ye-wat-ha, he is' there; 
The warrior chieftain noble-born ; 

Aye ! noble, if they noble be 
Who hold ignoblenoGs in scorn ; 

Who stood in Council great, as they 
That gifted are to lead and teach ; 

A fiery Soul that most could sway 
All passions with the might of speech/" 

Who weakly owned no brother's God," 
Nor less adjudged for wisdom thence ,m 

Who firm the path of duty trod, . 
And wanting not in reverence ;"; i 

Unbowed in fear-inspiring awe, 
Confessed no less the human need 

Of love — the first, the primal law : 
More sacred than the doubtful creed. 



-1 



232 THE BETTER LAND, 

And in the ages dawning bright 
Shall truth-illumined Sages rise, 

Who, walking in the widening light 
Wjith wiser mind and clearer eyes, 

With baser bigot-sight unvexed. 
Shall, conning deep each fading scroll^ 

Find many a love-inspiring text, — 
The offspring of thy nobler soul. 

There He — nor bears a crimson stain - 
Who bade the war-ax dread atone 

For all his kindred wanton slain ; 
His Nations woes wept in his own. 

I see that form pathetic stand : 
I hear : — "Of all my kindred, none 

Are left alive in all the land ! 
For Logan who will mourn ? — not one," 

There He, Oneida's noblest son, 
That bold amid War's wild alarms 

The warrior-hero's chaplet won, 
When rose the Western World in arms ; 

On battle-field, in Council-hall, 
Alike created to command ; " 

Who stood amid the sachems all. 
The wisest chieftain in the land, 



THS BETTER LAND, 

Who bowed in years, in spirit brave, 
^^I am an aged hemlock," said ; 
" Winds of a hundred winters have 
Fierce whistled through my branches dea<i^' 

And pilgrims sj:ill their footsteps stay — 
Bend o'er his dust with tearful eyes ; 
^' He was the White Man's friend," they say, 
Or ''Here the good Sken-an-do lies," 

Rise other forms more comely dight \ 
More fair than in the olden days 

They that T see — oh, dear delight ! 
In beaut}^ that is pjussing praise, 

In wifely charm or maiden grace, 
In snowy kirtle rich arrayed. 

They light the Yong-we"s home and place^ 
Make glad the wigwam's mat and shade. 

And oft along the glimmering marge 
Of wider shores, that faint and glow, 

I see again that mystic barge — ^ 
That mystic Chee-maun come and go ; 

More beauteous on the flowing tide, 
More fleet is seen to glide and run. 

Dance on the billows foaming wide, 
No paddle lias — no need of one, 



^34 THE BETTER LANi>. 



It Hayo-went-ha lightl}^ bears, 
While brightens more his Prophet-face, 

As.it the glow effulgent wears 
^Of Oway-neo's Shining Place. 

In beauty made more beautiful 
I see, by sorrow sanctified, 

In wifely charms surpassing all — 
Nyah-tah-wanta by his side. 



And thei*e is she, — the little maid, 
The darling he had mourned as dead. 

In rarer maiden grace arrayed ; 
More glad her song, more light her tread ; 

In mind, as stature, heightened more, 
With love the mother's love requites ; 

More deeply learned in forest-lore. 
She more the father's heart delights. 

And there they dwell — joy complete ! 
Land where no earthly shadows gloam ; 

There taste again the rapture sweet — 
Know all the sacred joys of Home. 

Oh ! Home is where — or near or far-**' 
Our darlings' footsteps light the sod ; 

Wherever they, the loved ones, are 
In the wide Universe of God. 



THE BETTER LAND. 235 

With woods where endless Summer smiles, 
That, robed in leafy fragrance stand 

Year unto year ; unmeasured miles 
Of verdured plains, of billowy strand, 

Of meadows wide in mantle green ; 
Hills that on hills serenely shine, 

With flowery vales far-stretched between, 
That snowy tents make more divine, — 

Still looms and fades the Shining Land : 
The mighty chiefs of noble fame 

There, as of old, in Council stand ; 
There, kindling with the kindling flame. 

They wake again the lofty speech ; 
But not to fire for mortal strife 

The warrior's heart ; — they, wiser, teach 
Of Him who Master is of Life. 



And they that hearken do I see : 
With faces like the morning lit. 

Of braves a goodly company, 
Along the sward they stand or sit ; 

And there, more lovely, wife or maid, 
In kirtle new, they sit or stand, 

In mantle wove of wampum-braid, 
And moccasins auilled and beaded grand. 
31 



1 



236 THE BETTER LAND. 



Bright on the wigwams, painted fair 
I see each to>-tem form again, 

Of Beaver, Tortoise^ Wolf, and Bear^ 
Of Falcon, Plover, Deer and Crane ; 

With picture-writing wondrous shown : 
All birds and beasts — all symbols whence 

The greatly wise may draw alone 
The mystery of the hidden sense* 



Still on the endless Seasons roll : 
All manly sports their jo3"s enhance ; 

Elate they play at Bat and Ball, 
Or shake the Bowl, in game of chance, 

Or with the hunter's shaft iuad bow 
Still, as of old, in passion new, 

They track afar the fl^'ing Roe 
To hills beyond the farthest blue. 



There through the forest's leafy sheen 
Still gleams each royal antlered head, 

And all the plain's unbroken green 
Far trembles to each tameles.^ tread ; 

There every bird beloved of old. 
That clove the air or swam the sea, 

With gayer plume, with wing more bold, 
Still climbs an ampler ether free. 



THE BF/lTEIi LAND. 237 

The land and homo of worth}' braves, 
By smiling meads and crystal lakes 

Whose shores no angry billow Lives, 
Where War's Avild tarnioil never wakes ; 

By tranqnil streams th;it liglitly sing, 
The green Savannas murmuring thi'ough ; 

Where on the scarcely ruffled spring 
Still noiseless speeds the light canoe. 



Though grief still sways with tyrant might? 
Still binds the v/r.iting years v, ith pain, 

S'>me solace for each lost delight 
To see the loved ones smile again ; 

To know they dwell immortal there, 
Where bright the sunset glory smiles ; 

Their wigwams built eternal are 
In Inigorio's Happy Isles. 



And musing on the glory past, 
The glory that the Ages wait, 

This heart, despite its sorrow vast. 
Again is reconciled with Fate ; 

Nor other thought such comfort brings 
As — ye that left us are not lost ; 

But freely quaff life's deeper springs 
Mid Oway-neo's Shining Host 



Till-: bet::::^ l:xd. 

Love ! that stays, though sans do go- 
Abides — though fill things llee junain, 

To more and ni;)re dost Wcix and grow, 
Thou canst the Fore-Wodd huild again ; 

Though sorrow-dim, tear-v.et anew, 
Hope-hrightened sliiiies tlie fading page 

That liere I cdose. Once more adieu — 
A last adieu, thou Primal Age. 



WINONA. 



All Truth through martyrdom is horn. 
Truth that the after-ages bless. 

The Virtue that shall life adorriy 
The Soul exalt in nobleness, 

Js to the passing thqughta7\d time 
A stHf when by their standard tried; 

If but for protest to the crime 
By hoary Custom sanctified* 



wmoiTA. 



Afar, where Pepin ^s waters flow 
By many a beetling turret steep, 

With glimmering: turrets far below 
Reflected ia the glimmering deep, 

The rocky heights sad memories stir 
Of one with faithful heart and true, 

The maiden, dear Winona, her 
The stranger Chieftain came to woo, 

A warrior bold, of presence proud, 
The Chief of all the Northern Wood ; 

To him the braves in reverence bowed 
Or reverent in his presence stood ; 

His breast of many a battle showed, — 
War waged with many a swarthy band ;• 

And presents rare he free bestowed 
In barter for the maiden hand. 



24^ WINONA. 

The dusky warriors, brave and strong". 
Around the camp-fire, blazing bright, 

With feast and pipe and dance and song 
Made revel with a wild delight ; 

While he, the stranger Chieftain bold, 
Profuse his costly gifts displayed ; 

Of many a deed of valor told — 
So he perchance might win the maid. 

What fairer boon of Manito 
Might crown the maiden's heart of pride, 

Than from her wigwam home to go 
A mighty chieftain's queen and bride ? 

In reedy mantle, torn and mean. 
No more in lowly want to piue, 

But of a royal lodge the queen, — 
In bear-skin kirtle, beaded fine. 

But not for him of fame and might 
She braided fair each raven tress ; 

Oh, not for him those eyes of night 
Revealed their starry tenderness ! 

Oh, not for him the maiden heart 
Timed the warm pulse of maidenhood 

Within a breast unsoiled of art, 
Far-nurtured in the wild and wood. 



WJNONA. 243 

In troubled thought she might not tell, 
Low on her simple couch outspread, 

Winona, where the shadows fell, 
Sat burdened with a nameless dread. 

In fear that darker purpose takes 
When hope is dead, she turned on him 

Such tearful glance as only wakes 
In eyes that sorrows overbrim. 

Scarce conscious of the pa.^si ng scene 
She took in all nor lot nor part ; 

Till, with familiar voice and mien, 
That pierced with woe the maiden heart, 

Bespoke her .sire : — '' IIo, daughter mine ! 
Make haste to be, like maiden good. 

The bride of him of noble line, 
And worthy of our wanior blood !" 

Quick rising thence the stricken maid 
Low bent the haughty chief beside ; 

Her heaving breast its strife betrayed 
With maiden grief and maiden pride : 
"No, father, no ! — pray do not let !■— 
My heart is not for him 3'ou say ; 

Too few my maiden summers yet, — 
I cannot be a bride to-day ! 
32 



244 WINONA, 

" Though bravest of the braves is he,. 
And I of all the maidens least, 

His bride and wife I can not be, 
So do not bid the marriage feast. 

I low will rest beside the dead, 
Or lonely wander, old and gray ; 

But never will Winona wed 
Till love shall light her wedding-day." 

Now flickers dim the camp-fire light ; 
The tawny braves that hideous made 

With whoop and dance the fulling night. 
Lie slumbering in the dusky shade, 

A deeper gloom the midnight wears j-=» 
Till silence in that fading glow 

Hangs like some sable w ing that bears 
The presage of on-coming woe. 

From out the forest dim and faint^ 
From off the waters glooming nigh, 

Comes up the Wa-won-ais-se's plaint, 
The Wa-be-wa-wa s clang and cry ; . 

And many a nightbird lonely calls, . 
While sweeter than the morning-rise 

The dew of sleep that softly falls — 
But not on anguish-burdened eyes» , 



WINONA. 246 

Slow through the purple gates of even 
The hours to mournful measures move ; 

As if the radiant hosts of heaven 
Looked down with pitying eyes of love ; 

As conscious of thy breaking heart, 
Winona, that so lone and late 

And wildly weeping sitst apart, 
Sad brooding on the morrow's fute. 



tender Soul ! heart of grief 
That trembles like the startled fawn, 

Or flutters like the aspen leaf 
Touched by the ruder breath of dawn I 

What means thy look so all forlorn. 
Thy pallid cheek and tearful eye ? — 

Alas ! that thou must wed at morn. 
Or morn will bring thy hour to die ! 

Where Ko-ko-ko-lio to the night 
The hour of midnight sober calls, 

Where fixr along the rocky height 
The silver starlight softly falls,— 

Lo ! sorrowing maiden form appears ; 
And lone the rocky steeps along 

Now silent pour her anguished tears - 
Now troubled wakes her saddened song. 



S46 SONG OF WINONA. 



" Hush thy moaning, Es-con-aw-baw, — 

Hear my cry; 
Hark the plaint of lorn Win-o-na, — 

She must die ! 
Gitche Manito, pity me ! pity me .— 

Linger nigh; 
Bear the. shade of lost Winona 

To the sky ! , 

**Warbun An-nung, Wa-bun An-nung, 

Hasten, come I 
Dwelling where the shining Spirits 

Happy roam ; — 
Bring, oh ! bring thy charmed Chee-maun 

O^er the foam ; 
Bear Winona's bruised and bleeding 

Spirit home. 



*' Se-bow-ish-a, Se-bow-ish-a, 

Sobbing by ; 
Hoarse Da-hin-da, cease thy croaking — 

Doleful cry ; 
Wa-won-ais-se, Wa-won-ais-se, 

Plainting nigh, 
Hearken to Winona's moaning, — 

She must die ! 



SONG OF WINONA. 247' 

" Oft when Segwun fair shall brighten 

All the plain, 
By the wigwam shall the Shaw-shaw 

Build again ; 
Dear 0-nie-me sing her lonesome ^ 

Sad refrain; — 
But her song will lost Winona 

Call in vain. , 

" Oft shall Minne-wa-wa linger 

In the trees ; 
Oft shall Show-on-dai-se whisper 

To the breeze; 
Loud the Wa-wa clang his honking 

On the seas ; — 
But no more shall wake Winona's ' 

Song with these. { 

" Soan-ge-ta-ha, my beloved ! 

Evermore 
On the beautiful Hereafter'^s * '■ '" I 

Fairer shore, 
Soan-ge-ta-ha's dear Winona, 

Gone before, 
Still will be his Ne-ne-moosh-a»^^- 
Weep no more! 



\v.. 



248 SONG OF WINONA, . 

" Gush-ke-wau ! the darkness ! 

Part the gloom ! 
Unk-ta-he, low make Winona's 

Billowy tomb ! 
Ne-ba-naw-baigs take Winona's 

Spirit home ! 
Gitche Manito, pity me ! pity me ! 

Lo ! I come ! " 



A shriek I — was that the scream of bird ? 
Was it Key-oshk's — the wing I saw ? 

The Ne-ba-naw-baigs, waking heard 
The cry, and answered, — '^ Win-o-na !" 

A shriek that startled all the plain, 
And mournful as a dying swan ; 

A shriek — a plash ; — and Night again 
Sat weeping o'er a glory gone. 

And still along the rocky walls, 
The listening night-wind hushed in awe, 
The Ko-ko-ko-ho nightly calls : 
*'Lost Win-o-na ! lost Win-o-na !" 
And far the answering caves along, 
The Loon from many a lone bayou. 

Shrieks sorrowing in her midnight song : 
"Win-o-na— 0! Win-o-na— 0!!" 



, WINONA. 249, 

How beauteous shone thy maiden fame, 
How beauteous where thy footsteps stood, 

When, sorrowing in thy maiden blame, 
Thou trembler st o'er the threatening flood ! 

What yearnings vain thy heart possessed 
When love's sweet morning-dream decayed ; 

No darlings for the woman's breast. 
No lovelight for the lonejy maid ! 

And oh, what anguish over all — 
What grief the aching breast enfolds, 

When one so loved and beautiful 
Goes sorrowing to the Land of Souls ! 

But yet methinks I hear the cry 
From many and many a breaking heart : 
''Alas ! alas ! — oh, would that I 
Had chose the Indian Maiden's part!" 



THE GREAT SNAKE 

OF 

CANANDAIGUA LAKE. 



k ^m^-'"^r?!^ 



A partial sight, a narrow view 
Has he J — an eye to error prone f 

Who onhj sees the story true 
That tells of outivavd truth alone. 

The fabled fireside stories old^ 
The lore in childhood's ivonder shrinedf 

Do nobler, deeper lessons hold 
Of Wisdom for the wiser mind» 



^mm^^ 



OEIGra OF Tire SENECA NATION, 



Fair in a ^>oc!Ty hind, beside 
The springs of Canandajgua, st.itl 

Yo-non^to looms along the tide, 
The lofty Niin-dow-.iga Hill ; 

That wide renowned in days of yore, 
Still freqnent breath of wonder stirs ; 

Whose earthy, fecund bosom bore 
A nation's great progenitors. 

What time from out his shining home 
The mighty Oway-neo came, 

He to the rocky summit clomb, 
And all the air was wrapped in flame ; 

Bright seeming girt with fiery zone, 
Though robed in mortal garb ; nor less 

His lofty brow with luster shone 
Of love's diviner tenderness. 



254 ORIGIXOF.THE.SENnCA NATION, 



While she, the wood-emmantled Hill, 
Blushed red through all her summer face, 

As, chained in passion's thrall and thrill, 
She yielded to his rapt embrace ; 

O'er all the plain a cloudy fold 
A glory made as if to hide 

With flaming sunset's fire and gold 
The bliss of more than mortal bride. 



All unaware of maiden blame, 
What time the Seasons onward drew, 

Her life of other life became 
A part ; — or so in seeming grew ;, 

A marvel more, so new to her 
Thp miracle of life to prove ; 

To feel the quickening pulse and stir 
That wakes the fond maternal love. 



Still more a wonder day by day. 
Until — the days to fullness grown, — 

The quarried steep in travail lay, 
In mighty child-birth wail and moan. 

By earthquake-pain parturient urged, 
The parted cliff made willing way ; 

And lo ! a people thence emerged— 
The great and noble Seneca. 



ORIGIK 02'' THE SEX EC A NATION. 255 



And he, whose place is high above, 
Them lent his fostering love and care ; 

Nor knew they idle wish to rove 
From land so passing good and fair ; 

And where the plain in beauty showed, 
Sloped greening to the rippled wave. 

Content the infant tribe abode, 
Each tawny maid and dusky brave. 

The manly arms so brown and bare 
From far the poles of cedar brought ; 

And many a flaggy mat and fair 
The damsels' lighter lingers wrought ; 

Still to the brake and to the wood 
The willing footsteps came and went, 

Till new, in home-like comfort, stood 
The lowly Indian's barky tent. 



And in the years that onward drew 
He marked the Seasons come and go ; 

Taught of each varied need, he knew 
To shape the arrow, string the bow, 

Swift-speed the pointed shaft, to slay 
Skan-o-do, to unerring pierce 

The Mosa on the hills away, 
The shaggy Yek-wai, prowling fierce. 



,a^^i 



25^ ORIGIN OF THE SENECA NATION. "J^ 

While she who bore life's equal part,. 
Who in the wigwam toiling sat, 

With hand more deft in household art, 
Wove fair the waiting couch and mat ; 

With charms than maiden charms more rare^ 
Full-ripened unto matron grace, 

With gentle, frugal house-wife care 
Made bright the Yong-we's home and place. 



|?¥SS* 



And waxing strong, and more and more. 
The hunters roamed the farthest wood ; 

While thick along the grassy shore 
The new built wigwams smiling stood ; 

Where oft at twilight's dewy fall, 
Afar the tranquil seas along 

Woke childhood's gleesome shout and call^ 
Or dusky forest-maiden's song. 

With skillful bow, with valiant arm, 
The bravest of the Hunter Race, 

They went and came, secure from harm^ 
With eager feet pursued the chase ; 

No fear of foe their bosoms felt, 
No dread forebode of coming ill ; 

For blest with peace and plenty dwelt 
Content— The People of the HilU 



THE GREAT SNAKE, 

How oft, alas ! is sorrow wrought 
When but of joy we careless dream ; 

How oft the fairest path is fraughj} 
With danger that Ave little deem, 

How oft the flower we nurture best 
But hides the wasp with fatal sting ; 

Or fondling cherished in the breast, 
But proves at last a cursed thing. 



What time, when passed the winter glooms, 
The Wild-goose clanged his song amain, 

What time the tender-burgeoned blooms 
Of spring-time brightened all the plain ; — 



When bearing proud their lesser bow 
Beyond the Nun-dow-aga HilJ, 

With eager feet that come and go, 
Elate their little game to kill, — 



/" 



THE GEE AT S^^AKE, 



The youthful mimic hunters caught 
The nursling of a viper brood ; 

And home the tiny serpent brought— 
A reptile beautiful and good. 



The pretty snake, though unrestrained, 
No more unto the wild it drew ; 

But in the wigwam glad remained, 
And, fondly cherished, greatly grew — 



Beloved of all, the old and 3^oung. 
The little hands the creature fed, 

To see it draw its forked tongue 
And high erect its shining head. 



Delighted still to see it grow 
Its ever-growing want supplied, 

Until in vain their shaft and bow 
The weaker hands industrious plied. 



Then portion of their larger game 
It day by day the hunters gave ; 

Till o'er the wild it went and came, 
Or fearless tracked the foaming waye. 



Tin: GREAT SXAKE. 259 



Now roaming wide ; — more fleet and free ; 
Nor longer beautiful and good ; 

Bat growing, grew accursed, to be 
A draofon of the field and flood. 



So great and strong, it fleetly sped 
Like winged thing from shore to shore ; 

Becoming more a beast cf dread — 
A prowling monster, thriving more. 



And still the scaly reptile grew, 
Till it { see forel)oded ill ; 

Till such cnonnou.j length it drew, 
It quite encircled all ihe hill. 



And still it grew, and grew, till vain 
It battened for its daily food 

On. Mosa from the farthest plain, 
Skan-o-do from the farthest wood. 



And grew, and grew, and grew, until 
His food, but not his hunger failed ; 

As reaching far from hill to hill. 
He splashed the rivers with his tail. 
3i 



260 THE GREAT SNAKE, 



Or hissing Yi'ic ii roaring blast, 
With eyes like demon, fierce and red, 

Swift as the wind went writhing past, 
The hapless Indian's scourge and dread. 



When in the vale he horrid sang 
The frightened beasts with bowlings fled ; 

The woods, the while his rattles rang, 
Stood shivering with a scaly dread. 



When leaping from tne rocky steeps 
He floundered in the frightened waves, 

The fishes in the startled deeps 
Went shuddering to the rocky caves. 

With jaws distent and high in air, 
With fiery tongue, that went and came, 

A roaming horror everywhere— 
Destroyer of the Indian's game. 



THE BATTLE 



Alarmed, the People of the Hill 
Gazed on that dragon form with dread , 

And questioned now how they might kill 
The ugly beast their hand had fed. 



And still the danger heightened more ; 
More near the monstrous thing they saw ; 

More frightful woke his hiss and roar, 
More wicked clashed his hungry jaw. 



And still more wroth the reptile grew, 
Still more the growing fear appalled ; 

Till, dark in doubt what they might do, 
The warrior-braves a Council called. 



Some weakly urged to spare the beast. 
It, angered more, might them consume ; 

And oh, what shade might peaceful rest, 
If buried in such awful tomb ! 



262 THE BATTLE. 



Replied the braves : ''If all unslain, 
Yet death were certain all the same ; 

For from the wood find from the plain 
Were soon devoured the hunter^'s game. 

" And if with famine fierce subdued, 
More sore were their destruction then ; 

And coward life is never good, 
But always good to die like men." 



The while the bolder chieftains spoke, 
With valor shone each kindling eye ; 

Till forth the cry of vengeance broke : 
*' The Snake must die I the Snake must die ! ! " 



The warriors' trusty weapons laid 
In secret place, from thence were drawn ; 

And spear and shaft were sharper made 
For fiercest conflict at the dawn. 



While in the wigwams, glooming nigh, 
Throbbed man}^ a woman's troubled breast ; 

That watched the dawn with tearful eye — 
More close her little ones she pressed. 



THE BATTLE. 263 



Dim rose the Hill, in darkness walled, 
The pines their midnight shadows cast ; 

But dreader sight their hearts appalled 
When tardy morning broke at last. 



And oh ! how fear to terror grew 
As farthest wigwam closing round, 

The huge and wide-mouthed reptile drew 
His scaly length along the ground. 



Encircling {ill the town — his size 
Enormous — b.irring all the way. 

With clanging j.iws and glaring eyes, 
The frightful reptile horrid Inj. 



Then bravely forth, with shaft and bow, 
The warriors swift to battle flew ; 

With vigorous arm, expert to throw 
The pointed missile, strong and true. 



And woman there forgot her fear, 
And dauntless bore, like noble brave, 

The warrior-bow and shaft and spear, 
And many a thrust the monster gave. 



264 THE BATTLE, 



If valor fired each manly arm, 
Love more her hand its vigor lent, 

To shield her little ones from harm — 
Her darlings in the waiting tent. 



But for each murderous missile thrown 
The more the brute their wrath defied ; 

Till broke their spears, their arrows gone, 
And none had pierced his scaly hide. 



Till sore in every purpose foiled, 
They, weak and wounded, sick and spent, 

Loth from the fearful strife recoiled ; — 
Sought refuge in the inner tent. 



And resting there their weary feet, 
Their gnef they bore with patient heart ; 

Ate sparing of their little meat, 
Until the monster might depart. 



And so they tarried many a day, 
Till on them frowned a darker fate ; 

For still the awful reptile lay, 
His jaw 5 wide-yawning at the gate. 



THE B^TTIE. 



And forth again the warriors bor^ 
Their shivered spears, with brave intent, 

To fight the fearful battle o'er — 
For hunger fierce new courage lent. 

But all in vain each valiant hand 
Assailed the brute with thrust and throw ; 

And never braver warrior-band 
Did battle give more desperate foe. 



Some frantic made with fear and pam 
Rushed mad to pile the savage feast ; 

Though swift devoured, such pittance vain 
Bnt hungered more the insatiate beast. 



And some in terror thought to flee 
The dragon's flinty side to climb ; 

But swaying like an angry sea, 
He crushed them in the ooze and slime. 



Still shrieking ran the maniac din, 
Still clashed his frightful jaw amain. 

Till last of all those noble men 
Had the devouring monster sla^n. 



THE VICTORY. 



How frequent, in the battle tried. 
Alone the weaker hands prevail ; 

While freely flows the crimson tida 
From bosoms clad in iron mail. 



Still rests with Oway-neo great 
The victory in the fiercest strife ; 

They triumph at the last who wait 
On Him who Master is of Life. 



Low-fallen lay each noble brave, 
The wigwams empty pressed the plain ; 

Save one alone that shelter gave 
To Yong-we with her children twain. 



Who, spared her kinsmens^ sadder fate 
Still lingered in that frightful place ; 

Lone with her little ones she sat : — 
Sad remnant of a noble Kace. 






THE VICTORY, 



And forth at dusk she softly crept 
To bear them to the sheltering wood ; 

While prone the snaky monster slept, 
Made drunken with his feast of blood. 



As fleet as flees the startled hare, 
She to the leafy covert fled ; 

Her weary feet she rested there,- 
Bewailing still her kindred dead. 



Still for her grief no comfort knew, — • 
No sleep her eyes so tearful saw, 

Till midnight bright with vision grew, 
And all the land avus hushed in awe. 



Lo ! on the dark, with glowing haft, 
An arrow shone : with wondrous skill 

Thence was she taught to shape the shaft 
Wherewith that monster she might kill. 



Straightway with patient hand she wrought 
The weapon ; — at the peep of day 

She forth that venomed reptile sought, 
Alone the Avanton brute to slay, 
35 



368 THE VICTORY, 



Strong in her heaven-instructed art, 
She near approached the dreadful beast ; 

Deep pierced the sleeping monster's heart, 
Gorged frightful with his horrid feast. 



Mad writhing in his mortal pain, 
With many a dying roar and wail, 

That dragon awful lashed the plain 
And farthest hill-side with his tail. 



Morefierce than tempest-tiding storm, 
The lofty pine, the mighty oak, 

That demon-like contracted form 
Like fragile reeds to splinters broke. 



The beasts that, howling, fled the plain 
Felt all the earth with terror quake 

As, rolling down the slope amain. 
He plunged into the foaming lake. 



He there his human victims vain 
Disgorged along the crimson shore ; 

Then with one throe of dying pain, 
Sank slowly,— and was seen no more. 



TliE VIOWBYr 269* 



And she whose hand the arrow sped,- 
If noble deeds may gladness win — 

Rejoiced to s6e the monster dead, 
Destroyer of her tribe and kin. 



Thence from the Canandaigua share, 
Beyond the sorrow-darkened land, 

Afar with hurrying feet, she bore 
Her children with a loving hand. 



Built them a wigwam by the mere,^— 
By Canadesoga s tranquil wave ; 

With them abode unvexed of fear. 
And reared* them to be wise and brave* 



And from them sprang in after days. 
And worthy of their race and name. 

The brave and noble Seneeas ;— 
The mightiest warriors known to fame. 



Yet if there was a snake at all 
Some ftiin would question ; — some at least 

Would count my story mythical 
Of her that slew the dreadful beast* 



W' 



'210 THE VIC roar. 

But many a liill-side gully shows^ 
In many a forest still abides 

Some token of the awful throes 
Wherewith the frightful monster died. 



And still the curious eye may see 
Where Canandaigua s billows moan^ 

Out-spewed in death's last agony, 
The victim's skulls transformed to stone. 



Nor valor less lur bos 3m bore, 
But more her greatness stands confessed 

If cliance it were no serpent, more 
Than lives to-day in every breast. 



THE SHINING MANITO. 



Great Manabo-zho sailing lone 

Remotest tide, ^ 
As drawing nigh to shores unknown, 
' Bright on the hills afar he spied, 

And strange and new, 
Lodge of the Shining Mauito. 

With warrior pride, he all night long 

And unafraid, 
Shap.ed_spear and bow and ai:row strong, 
And brought his weapons ready made 

At dawning light, 
And stripped and armed him for the iight. 

Then he the conflict dread began : 
The war-whoop gave ; 
"Surround him !" yelled, as on he ran, — 
*'Run up ! run up ! !" as with him, brave, 
.Were there and then 
Three times a hundred ai'm^d men. 






272 THE SHINING MANITO. 

Fierce did all day that battle wage, — ^ 

More furious grew ; 
Wide o'er the land did storm and rage ; 
Nor wound had he — that Manito, 

So all complete 
In wampum clad from head to feet. 

Thick fell the blows — the arrows sped : 

''0 it was you!'' 
Cried Manabo-zho— " You !'' he said, 
**My kindred, my Ne-me-sho slew !" 

Till left had he 
Of all his arrows only three. 

Just then a gentle voice he heard — 
Past Ma-ma flew ; 
'^ Manabo-zho ! " spake the bird , 
As he another arrow drew, 
" Of wampum bare 
His crown ; — shoot at that tuft of hair." 

As he let fly straight at that spot, 

Lo ! blood he saw ; 
He then his second arrow got,— 

This brought him low ; a third did draw 

Full on his head, 
And down that Manito fell dead. 



C 



THE SHINING MANITO. 273" 

Then, uttering his Saw-saw-quan, 

His scalp he drew ; 
He took the blood, as wide it ran, 

And Ma-ma's head — the friend so true— 

As seen to-day, 
All gory^ red, he painted gay. 



THE FLOOD. 



Among the mighty deeds, still told 
In legends dim, 

Of Manabo-zho strong and bold, 
None is, of all the tales of him 
From days of old, 
More strange or true, 

Than now he built the world anew. 



As journeying far by many a reach 
Of billowy strand. 

He saw, stretched on the sandy beach, 
And guarded by a faithful band 
Wound each with each 
And dazzling bright. 

The Prince of Serpents, snowy white. 

So late from battle won, he knew 

No fear of foe ; 
With all his strength his bow he drew, 
Full on his heart the shaft, let go. 



THE FLOOD. 275 

Fell swift and true ; 
Then shouting dread 
His SaW'Saw-quan^ away he fled. 

Then horrid cried the Serpents — " See ! 

Our Prince is slain ! 
Manabo-zho! — it is He ! ! — 

But we will catch him ! " as amain 

By land and sen. 

They, hissing, ran 
In cTiase of him — that Mighty Man ! 

Them Manabo-zho heard the while 

As on he sped 
O'er hill and vale — each step a mile ! — 
Heard close behind the writhing tread 

Of creatures vile ; 

And well he knew 
In each an Evil Manito. 

He mountain climbed — the highest tree — 

The topmost height ; 
O'er all the land a boundless sea 
Did rush and swash ; — Oh ! fearful sight ! 
Up to his knee 
The waters drew, 
Still higher— higher round him gre%. 
30 



276 THE FLOOD. 

A cry great Maijubo-zho gave : 

'' Grandfather wise 
Do stretch 3^ourself — Ne-me-sho brave !"' 
And quick that tree did taller rise — 
Out of the wave 
Him upward bore ; 
But still the waters heightened more. 

Thrice did he call ; thrice from the tide 

That tree did grow ; 
Still higher rose the billows wide ; 
''Alas ! I can no higher go,'' 
^ The tx'ee replied ; 

While yet he prayed, 
Just at his chin the waters stayed. 

Near on the waste a Loon did pass : 

"0 Brother true ! 
Down — get of earth a little mass," 
He said, ''to build the World anew :" 

That bird, alas ! 

Though diver bold, 
Thence rose a- lifelesfj. form an^ cold. 

Then to the Musk-Rat^ swiniming nigh : 

"0 Brother ! bring 
A little earth ; down-^down and try j 



THE FLOOD, 277 



Each grassy tarn and reedy spring, 
As days gone by 
Your home shall be, 
Or on the land, or on the sea," 



He too did down ; rose like the Loon, 

A lifeless thing ; 
But in his nostrils breathing, soon 
He, Manabo-zho, him did bring 

The precious boon 

Of life ; — ^and then 
jBaid he — ''My Brother, try again.'' 

Next time a little soil he drew 

Up from the seas ; 
This Manabo-zho added to 
The drowned Loon ; and built of these 

The AVorld anew, 

As you can see — 
With every beast and bird and tree. 



<w^ 



ORIGIN OF THE RED WILLOW, 

Once on a time a-hunting went 
Great Manabo-zho : with his bow 
He traveled on through v, iiid and snow ; 

At length, just as the d.iy was spent, 
High perched upon a vritliered tree, 
Afar he spied a Kee-wau-nee ; 

He fixed an arrow, creeping nigher, 
He shot it, and the bird did bring 
Into the woods, where was a spring ; 

He plucked the feathers, built a fire, 
And by the flame, to cook it quick. 
He stuck it on a forked stick. 

And then he said, '' t think that I 
Will take a nap."* " Here legs,'' said he, 
You roast the bird — the Kee-wau-nee ; 

See it don't l^urn ; let none come nigh 
To touch it ; and be sure you keep 
A- watch :" — and then he went to sleep. 






ORIGIN OF THE liED UILLOir. 279 

A hungry Wolf — the 0-kwa-ho, 
That near, but warily, had crept, 
Came — seeing Manabo-zho slept ; 
" My Brothers, walking through the snow, 
You must," he said, ^' to come so far. 
Be tired — as indeed you are/' 

"Yes," — said the legs, — ''We came from wide 
Beyond the rising sua to-d;iy ; — 
Brought Manabo-zho all the way."' 

''He sleeps, you watch," the Wolf replied; 
He has a coat of skins to wear, 
While you, my Brothers, you are bare." 

Then forth he furr}- leggins drew : 
" With hunger I am almost dead ; — 
Give me the bird, and I," he said. 

Will give you these, so warm and new; 
To Manabo-zho you can say : — - 
*It came to life and flew away.' " 

The legs, cajoled Ly flattery. 
Did give consent ; as they were bid, 
Behind a log the leggins hid ; 

Them they would show another day 
To Manabo-zho, and declare 
That truly they had found them there. 



280 ORiGix OF Tin: red willow. 

But Manabo-zho sleeping yet, 
They brought, and on the leggins tried; 
Their color, warmth, elate with pride. 
Admiring,— all their shape and fit ; 
When Manabo-zho woke ; said he — 
*' Where is the bird,— the Kee-wau-nee ? " 

"It came to life and flew away,'' 
They said ; — ^'The Master of Life, He blew 
Upon the fowl, and off it flew. 
''And whence these leggins ?*' All ! said they, 
"We found them in the woods ; we did 
Indeed,— tliere by some hunter hid." 

Them Manabo-zho taking, he 
Did smell them : then more wroth he grew ; 
"I see, what I had thought was true," 

He said — "who stole the Kee-wau-nee: 
I see, as I had cause to fear. 
The Wolf, my cousin, has ])een here." 

As him his legs did homeward bear, 
He cut a switch : at every stride 
He switched them, till all gory-dyed ; 

The willows, that so yellow were 
Before, became, — as you can see, — 
As red with blood as red can be. 



THE BEAR. WIFE. 



Ix days of old 
There lived an Indian hunter bold ; 

In childhood skilled 
In hunting, he a Bear had killed ; 
To more extol and record fair 

A deed so famed, 
His people hence him Yek-wai named — 

Named him the Bear. 



When manhood came 
He hunted Bears, his chosen game ; 

And many a beast 
Slain by his hand, had piled the feast ; 
Until no more that shaggy brute 

Did near abound ; 
By hunters brave alone was found 

In wilds remote. 



2t2 THE BE AH' WIFE, 



Once far away, 
When hunting vain, at close of day, 

His path beside 
A stranger wigwam ghid he spied ; 
And coming there, he raised the mat : 

The inmates all, 
Lo ! they were Bears, both great and small, 

That smoking sat. 



A seat he sought, — 
He silent smoked the pipe they brought. 

They offered meat; 
He took, and silently did eat ; 

And when refreshed with food and rest, 

An old gray Bear, 
The Chief, with friendly speech and fair, 

Thus him addressed : — 



" My son," said he, 
" Among us I am glad to see 
One known of old, 
Though only as a hunter bold ; 
But oh ! we Bears do suffer sore 
For all your fiime. 
The she Bears tremble at youi- name ;- 
Hunt us no more.'' 



THE BEAR-WIFE. 283 

" Come live with me ; 
A pleasant life our life shall be. 

Of savory things, — 
Of fruits of earth the Summer brings, 
Fruits good alike for Bears and Men, 

We eat our fill ; 
Then sleep the winter long, until 

Spring comes again." 

•My daughter, too, — ^- 

I, for a wife, will give to you." 
When she came nigh, 
And moccasins so warm and dry 
Put on his feet ; while she did lean 
All unafraid, 
He thought he had no Indian maid 
So lovely seen. 



And bidiiig there, 
He took for wife that Woman-bear; 

They, void of strife, 
Lived happily in wedded life. 
• Two sons erewhile she bore to him ; 
Like her, one son 
A Bear became ; an Indian one 
In mind and limb, 
37 



284 THE BEAR-WIFE, 

The Bear-child, sore 
Oppressed with heat, the mother boro 

With her to sleep 
Into the caves, so cool and deep ; 
The other, left alone in pain, 

With hunger pressed, 
Would call and cry for mother's breast 

And arms in vain. 



When ripe and good 
The nuts were fallen in the wood — 

Lay thick below, 
The Bear-wife said— ''Stay while I go 
And gather (icorns :'' with her kin 
Afar she went ; 
And Yek-wai tarried well content 
The lodge within, 

But tired at last, 
Into the wocds he wary passed 

A little wa3% 
As on each still-remembered day, 

With shaft and bow ; and looking well 

About, he saw 
A fat she Bear ; on her did draw, — 

And down she fell. 



THE BEAR-WIFE, 

Oh ! fatal shot ! 
For when he came nigh to the spot, 

He there, with awe, 
His Bear- wife's sister, bleeding saw : 
''0 cruel man !" she cried; — "in vaip. 

Our kindness shown ; 
Leave us 1 pray ! — unto your own 

Keturn again." 

Straight did. he go 
Back to the lodge ; pretending so 

By speech and air 
That all the time he had been there ; 
The Chief knew all :■ — with anger seized, 

Would Yek-wai kill, 
But that the Bear- wife's woman skill 

His wrath appeased. 

The Autumn passed ; 
The Winter came ; the Bears, at last, 

As all Bears do, 
Into their winter-lodge withdrew. 
There Yek-^\'ai with his Bear-wife went ; 

And lovingly 
Together in a hollow tree 

They lived content. 



23G THE BEAR-WIFE. 



'\ 



But them erewhile 
A hunter spied. To him beguile, 

Out of the hole 
All cautiously the Bear-wife stole ; 
, Jumped from the tree ; with leap and bound 

And lame-pretence 
Allured him on, — escaping thence 

Without a wound. 



When home again 
Returned, she cried — ''Unhappy man ! 

Yek-wai ! pray 
Go back, and with your people stay : 
Our union has brought only ill ; 
You killed, ah me ! 
; My sister ; now your friends, you see, 

\ Seek us to kill.*' 

; " It is not well 

That bears and men together dwell ; 

Each with its kind, 
As the GrCfit Spirit has designed, 
i Alone is good for men and bears ; 

j As we can see, 

j A different habitation he 

For each prepares." 



A 



THE BEAR-WIFE, 287 

And Yek-wai then 
Unto his tribe returned again; — 

Took thence his son; 
The bear-wife kept the bear-like one. 
And though he led a hunter-life 

Full many a year, 
No she bear would he kill, for fear 

To kill his wife. 



SHIN-GE-BIS. 

He, Shin-ge-bis, so bold and free, 
"Was duck 6r man, as he might please; 

Him, in his barky wigwam. He, 
Kabi-bonok-ka, could not freeze ; 

But four small logs the winter through 
Had he to burn to keep him warm ; 

Yet stout of heart, no fear he knew— - 
Laughed at the Winter's raging storm. 



The Windy God — the North Wind cold- 
"Who is the wondrous man ? " — said he : 
" I do not like such daring bold ; — 
This Shin-ge-bis must mastered be ; 
I high will pile the drifting snow, 
Will freeze the lakes — the rivers fast ; 
Will bid the mighty tempests blow, 
And with a tenfold fiercer blast." 



SHIN'GE'BIS 

Still Shin-ge-bis, through storm and gloam, 
Unto the reedy mere he went ; 

His strings of fish came dragging home ; — 
Cooked, ate and slept he, well content ; 

Sang to the fire-light's paling glow, 
As on his bear-skin couch he lay : 
" Kabi-bonok-ka, blow, and blow — 
Kabj-bonok-ka, go your way." 

Swift winged the North Wind o'er the land, 
Unto the wigwam wroth he came ; 

Thera Shin-ge-bis saw, listening, stand — 
Saw just beside the barky frame, 

Kabi-bonok-ka, chill and wan ; 
Still louder rang his roundelay : 
*'Ho ! Shin-ge-bis is still your man — 
Ho ! Windy God, I know your way." 

Wild and more shrill the North Wind blew, 
And yet a colder blast he sent ; 

Then, as aside the mat he drew, 
He stalked into the reedy tent, — 

Sat mute beside the failing fire ; 
Without, the tempest's roar and clang 

Rose louder — higher still and higher; 
Yet Shin-ge-bis, he careless sang : 



^y} 



SHIN'GE'BJS. 



*'Ho ! you are but my fellow man !" 
He stirred the coals, a warmer glow 

They gave ; the tears free overran 
Kabi-bonok-ka's eyes of snow — 

Fell streaming down;'' Alas !" said he, 
" I cannot stay — this will not do, 

I cannot master him, I see ; 
His is a mighty Manito." 



Then from the wigwam silently 
He went ; still fleeing far and long ; 

Still on the land, or on the sea 
He heard of Shin-ge-bis the song : 

''Heigh ho ! my Windy God I'' —sang he, 
Let blow the fiercest blasts you may ; 

Still Shin-ge-bis will happy bo — 
You cannot freeze him — ^go your way." 



SPEECH OF ME-TEY-A, 



Me-tey-a : thou didst make thine own 
Thy people's wrongs — still unredressed. 

Remembering the despairing moan 
That struggled through thy vain protest, 

I hear again, or seem to hear : — 
"My Father, hearken what I say ; 

Have pity on your children dear — 
They would not go afar away. 

"You see our land is very fair ; — 
We sold you of our land before ; 

Your children built their wigwams there ; 
Already you are asking more ; 

But oh ! we cannot sell you all — 
We cannot sell our homes to-day ; 

■Qur country now is all too small ; 
We would not go a£ar away. 
38 



292 srKKci: op^ me-tey-a. 



*'This land — this goodly land — you see, 
The Mighty Manito, he gave 

To grow the In(]ian'^^ corn, and be 
His hunting-ground, his home, and grave ; 

We built our homes here long ago — 
Here where you see our homes to-day ; 

It was our father's home ; and oh ! 
We would not go afar away. 

'^Our hearts are good t — but do not seek 
For more to get our little land ;** 

Your dusky childrens' hands are weak — 
My Father's is a mighty hand. 

! oi)en wide your ears ; — ! let 
Your hearts, too, hearken what I say ; 

1 speak for all in Council met ;— 
We would not go afar away, 

*'Look on our aged warriors there, 
Lpok on our women's trembling fears ; 

Look on our children, pleading fair, — 
Have pity on our falling tears ; 

See Avhere my people's wigwams stand, 
There would your dusky children stay ; 

How can they leave their Father-land ? 
We cannot go afar away/' 



SPEECH OF ME-TEY-A. 293 



Might heart of love or tongue of fire 
Prevail aggression's hand to stay 

Where proudly points yon glittering spire, 
Had been thy People's home to-day ; 

Where flaming meteors, glaring red, 
Fright all the plain with hurrying din, 

Had lightly woke thy children's tread. 
Their cheerful Home-fire bright had been. 



Or where the springs of Kankakee 
The grassy meadows interlace, 

Might, as of old, securely be 
Thy lowly People's dwelling place. 

Of what avail these tears that flow. 
More than availed thy mournful ''Nay ?"— 

Thy latest kinsman long ago 
Went sorrowing on — afar away. 



THE LAST OF THE HUNTER-RACE. 

Ye lingering few, who suffering bide — 
Who wander where the falling moon 

Looks on Missouri's farthest tide, 
Fair silvers o'er each lone lagoon ; 

Far-exiled from your native plains 
Ye homesick roam the desert-wild, 

Or Avhere Sierra- winter reign 3, 
With mountains high on mountains piled. 

With grief in other years unknown. 
When crimson ran each bleeding breast, 

I hear afar your dying moan 
Go shrieking down the fading West. 

The fading West !— even now I see 
Your footsteps on its farthest shore ; 

The fading West !— there soon will be 
For you a fiiding West no more. 



THE LAST OF THE HUNTER-RACE. 295 

And when no more a fading West 
These anxious eyes shall seek in vain, 

Where shall my failing People rest ? — 
Their home-bright wigwams build again ? 

Or who in the far years shall tell 
That this broad land, so fair unrolled, 

Where now the Pale-face Strangers dwell 
Was all your heritage of old ? 

f 

Yet on — still on, — unresting flee 
Till bounded by the billowy waste ; 

For oh ! a more remorseless sea 
Bids your retreating footsteps haste ; 

The hurrying, eager Hosts of Toil 
On — like a fiery billow sweep. 

To spoil the wild — with it to spoil 
Your homes beside the rolling deep. 

Low in the sunset's waning light, 
Above the hungry, roaring waves, 

I see, as with prophetic sight, 
The last of all the Hunter Braves ; 

With warrior arm uplifted high. 
And crying to the Indian's God, 

With one long, last, despairing cry 
He sinks in the devouring flood. 



296 



THE LAST OF THE HUNTER-RACE. 

Gone— all are gone— the noble dead, 
Save from this sorely-aching breast ; 

Though prone I linger, all are fled 
Of forms and sounds I love the best. 

No more return the days gone by — 
The mournful waves along the shore 

Blend with my own their wail and cry, 
And echo back— "No more !— no more ! !" 






The Wheat cast in the earth, it needs must wait 
The sloiv on-coming time; 
The autumn's gloom, the winter^ s frost and rain 

And (jloiv of summer's sunshine j ere it yield 
The bread-filled ears. Yet shall the seed again 
Return unto the sower; soon or late 

Comes to the rudest clime 
The Harvest ^home; and every ivell-tilled field 
Bears at the last its wealth of golden grain. 



Notes. 



Note 1. " Ye lingering few who weakly stand Page <J. 

Where strong of old ydnr fathers stood,''* 

" There are still residing in the State of New York about four thoiisand Iro- 
quois [1851]. The several fragments of the nations yet continue their relation- 
ships and intercourse with each other, and cling to the shadow of the ancient 
League." 

Lewis H. Morgan's League of the Iroquois, 

It is claimed that their numbers are now slowly on the increase. 

Note 2. " in J ill tkz sa^re-l wimpum-band.'' Page 8. 

"The original Wampum of the Iroiuois, in which the laws of the League were 
recorded, was made of spiral fresh-water shells, Ole-ko-a, which were strung on 
deer-skin strings, or sinews, and tha straado braidad into belt^, or simply united 
into strings." — Ibid. 

Note 3. " Traced only by the narrow trail Page 13. 

That dusky moccasined feet had made.''* 

Not only the vUlages of the Iroquois were connected by well-worn trails, but 
there was one principal trail that extended all the distance froia the Hudson 
River to Lake Erie. 

" It was usually from twelve to eighteen inches wide, and deeply worn in the 
groimd ; varying in this respect from three to six, and even twelve Inches, de- 
pending upon the firmness of the soiL The large trees on each side were fre- 
quently marked with the hatchet. This well-beaten foot-path, which no runner, 
nor band of warriors could mistake, had doubtless been trodden by successive 
generations from century to century. * * While it is scarcely possible to ascertain 
a more direct route than the one pursued by this trail, the accuracy with which it 
was traced from point to point to save distance, is extremely surprising." 

League of the Iroquois, p. 429. 

Note 4. " The cry of beast or scream of bird Page 19. 

That sorrow's ditn monitions bear." 

The Indian is a firm believer in a multitude of signs and omens— in transfor- 
mations, incarnations, and possessions ; an animal, as a deer, a bear, or a bird* 
may be a messenger of good or evil. The natural proneness of the Indian's 
mind to superstition has been enhanced, no doubt, by their marvelous legends 
snd fables handed down from generation to generation. 

39 



SOOl- NOTES. 



Note 5. " Some spirit of the earth or air," Pag© 99. 

" Spirits of the earth and air abound on every hand, who stand ready to leiid 
their aid by inhabiting human bodies, or by sending monsters, or giants, or pi^- 
mi£8, to do the needed work. The whole creation is filled with these lesser spir- 
its, jof benign or malignant character, who at one moment spring out of a rock, 
or a trea, or a plant, or animate a shell, an insect or a bird." 

Oneota, by H. R. Schoolcbaft, p. 259. 



Note 6. **.Tust by the day's departing track Page 30. 

Great InigoHo's shining tent." 

''The O-jib-was, and, indeed, nearly all the North American Indians, situate 
their Paradise to the west. 

"An O-jib-wa legend runs thus : Paradise was made by Manabo-zho. He aided 
the Great Spirit in the creation of the world, and at first neither of them thought 
of a Paradise. Man, such was their decree, should be happy in this earth, and 
find a satisfaction in this life ; but as the Evil Spirit interfered, and produced 
wickedness, illness, death and misfortune of every description among them, thai 
poor souls wandered about deserted and homeless. When the Great Spirit saw 
this he grieved for them, and ordered Manabo-zho to prepare a paradise for them 
in the west, where they might assemble. Manabo-zho made it very beautiful, and 
he was himself appointed to receive them there." 

Kih-hi Garni, by J. G. Roll, p. 216. 

" ' The happy home beyond the getting sun, had cheered the heart, and lighted 
the expiring eye of the Indian, before the shipe of Columbus had borne the cross 
to this western world." 

Leaffue of the Iroquois, p. 168. 

Note 7. Page 34. 

These, and other myths, wiU be found in full in Iliawatha Legends, byH. 
R. Schoolcraft. 

Note a. " Bright by the Onondaga shore Page 40. 

He lit the IIoine-Jire''s sacred flame." 

" It was a striking peculiarity of the ancient religious system of the Iroquois that 
ouce a year, the priesthood supplied the people with sacred tire. For this purpose 
a set time was announced for the ruling priest's visit. The entire village was 
apj)rised of this visit, and the master of each lodge was expected to be prepared 
for this annual rite. * * His lodge-fire was carefully put out and ashes scattered 
about it, as a symbolic sign of desplation and want. Exhibiting the insignia of 
the sacerdotal office, he (the priest) proceeded to invoke the Master of Life in 
their behalf, and ended his mis8ic)n by striking fixe from the flint, or from p^ 
cussion, and lighted anew the domestic fire." 

Ngtes on the Irogvois, H. R. ScboolcsafT| p. 1^ 



NOTES, 301 



Note 9. " Wrought Into each the magic spell Page 41. 

That fateful U for good or ill." 

" They believed that the poBsession of certain articles about the person wovild 
render the body invulnerable ; or that their powers over an enemy was thereby 
secured. A charmed weapon could not be turned aside." 

Sohgolcbaft's History, Condition and Prospects, VoL I, p. 86. 

Note 10. " To charm and guard his home and place, Page 41. 

Its barky sides he pictured fair 

With tO'tems of his name and race." 

'« By to-temlc marks, the various families of a tribe denote their affiliation. A 
guardian spirit has been selected by the progenitor of a family from some objedt 
in the zoological chain. The representative device of this is called the to-tem. 
Indians are proud of their to-tsms, aud are prone to surround them with allu- 
sions to bravery, strength, talent, the power of eadurance, or other qualities. A 
warrior's to-tem never wants honors, in thoir remembrance, and the mark is put 
upon his grave-post, or ati^e-da-ttigr, when he is dead. In his funeral picto- 
graph he invariably Biuks his personal name in that of his to-tem or family 
B»me, There appears to have been originally three to-tems that received the 
highest honors and reepect. They were the Turtle, Bear and Wolf. These were 
the great to-tema of the Iroquois." 

^^^^ Ibid, Vol. V. p. 73. 

Note 11. " His shaft the frightful monster slew." Page 42. 

"After a time the people were invaded by the monster of the deep : The Lake 
Serpent traverses the coimtry, which interrupts their intercourse. The five fam- 
ilies were compelled to make fortifications throughout their respective towns, la 
order to secure themselves from the devouring monsters." 

David Cusic. See Schoolobaft, VoL V. p. 637. 

Note 12. '*IIe slew the frightful Flying Head," Page 43. 

•* The Holder of the Heavens was absent from the coimtry. * * * The reason 
produced the occasion that they were invaded by the monsters called Ko-neh- 
ran-neh-neh, i. e., Flying Heads, which devoured several people of the coimtry. 
The Flying Heads made invasion in the night ; but the people were attentive to 
escape by leaving their huts and concealing themselves in other huts prepared 
for the occasion." Ibid, VoL V. p. 637. 

Note 13. " The Stonish Giants fierce and tall." Page 43. 

" The Stonish Giants were so ravenous thiat they devoured the people of almost' 
every town in the country; but happily the Holder of the Heavens again visits- 
the people, and he observes that the people are in distressed condition On account 
of the enemy. With a stratagem he proceeds to banish their invaders, and he 
changes himself into « Giant, and combines the Stonish Giants, he introditced 



302 NOTES, 



them to take the lead to destroy the people of ths country; but a day'B march 
they did not reach the fort Onondaga, where they intend to invade, and he 
ordered them to lay in a deep hollow during the night, and they would make 
attack on the following morning. 

"At the dawn of the day the Holder of the Heavens ascended upon the heighta 
and he overwhelmed them by a mass of rocks, and only one escaped to announce 
the dreadful fate ; and since of the event the Stonish Giants have left the country 
and seeks an asylum in the regions of the earth." Ibid, Vol. V. p. 637. 

Note 14. " Gave th'tnks to Ou'a>j-''eo nr&af." Page 47. 

That the Indians observed the custom of giving jhanks before meat, at least oi* 
certain occasions, and at their great feasts, is shown by several writers. 

ScHOOLCHAFT, Vol. II, p. 76, also Ki'ichl Garni, p. 216. 

Note 15. " H'<^rs<'.'f f > him, f ha favored hrar^. Page 48, 

She proffered with a modes' grace.'" 

"^ The warrior never solicits the maiden to dance with him; that privilege waa 
Accorded to her alone. In the midst of the dance the females present themselves 
Id pairs between any set they may select, thus giving to each a partner." 

Lcc^ve (/ the Iroquois, p. 236. 

Note 16. \^Vn(h terming J/flds of (-'''OWine; for-.:.", Pag? 48, 

" They cultivated this plant, as also the bsan aud th? squash, befor > t'i3 forma- 
tion of the League. It cannot therefor 3 be affir-n ^d with correctness that the 
Indian subsisted principally by the chas ^. The iiuantities of com raised by the 
Iroquois was a constant cause of remark by those v.ho went earliest among^ 
them." Ibid, p. 198. 

Note 17. " Ta-ren-ya-wn-'jo .' Might y Man !.' " Page 54. 

In one form of the legend this remarkable personage was called Ta-ren-ya-wa- 
go, that is. The Holder of the Heavens. " His wisdom was as great as his power. 
The people listened to him with admiration, and followed his ad\ice gladly. 
There was nothing in which he did not excel good hunters, brave warriors and 
eloquent orators." Schoolcraft, Vol. III. p. 314. 

Note 18. " Still on to many a stranger sea." Page 55. 

" We find curious Indian travelers, who came a great distance, mentioned in 
the first European reports about Indians. The Choctas preserve the memory of 
a celebrated traveler of their tribe, who undertook a long journey west, in order 
to find the sea in which the sun disappeared at setting. 

" Similar traditions about great journeys and travelers are found amoner other 
tribes," Kitchl Ga:nl, p. 121, 



NOTES. 303 



Note 19. ** Him Hayo-went-ha they did vame, Page 56. 

The wisest he, among the wise.^' 

** When an individual was raised up as a sachem, his original name was laid 
Aside, and that of the sachemship itself assumed. In like manner, at the raising 
up of a chief, the' council of the nation which performed the ceremony, took 
away the f oftner name of the incipient chief and assigned him a new one. 

" Thus when the celebrated Red Jacket was elevated by election to the dignity 
of a chief ,. his original name, 0-te-ti-an-i, 'always ready,' was taken from him, 
and in its place was bestowed Sa-go-ye-wat-ha, * keeper awake, ' in allusion to 
the powers of his eloquence." League of the Iroquois, pi 89. 

Note 20. "//^, Hayo-went-ha good and great. Page 58. 

Would woo and tved a mortal bride.'* 

**After he had given them wise instructions for observing the laws and maxims 
of the Great Spirit, * * * he laid aside the high prerogative of his public mis- 
sion, and resolved to set them an example of how they should live. 

" For this purpose he selected a beautiful spot on the southern shore of one of 
the lesser lakes, which is called Ti-o-to (Cross Lake) by the natives to this day. 
Here he erected his lodge, planted l::s field of coru, kept by him his magic canoe, 
and selected a wife." H. r.. Cchoolckaft, Vol. HI. p. 314. 

Note 21. ♦' /// the fore-goi>e time of fasting, Page 65. 

Whence T drew 
Smile and blesaing of the Mighty 
3fanito.''' 

" The rite of fasting is one of the most dsep-soated and universal in the Indi- 
an's ritual. It is practiced among all the American tribes, and is deemed by 
them essential to their success in life in every situation. No young man is fitted 
to begin the career of life until he has accomplished his great fast. Seven days 
-appear to have been the maximum limit of endurance, and the success of the 
devotee is inferred from the length of continued abstinence to which he is known 
to have attained. 

"These fasts are anticipated by youth as one of the most important events in 
life ; they are awaited with interest, prepared for with solemnity, and endured 
With a self-devotion bordering on the heroic." 

Algic Researehes, B.,n.iicHooi,cRATT, Vol. I. Y>. 148. 

^ Note 22. " Bi/ild the firf, make bright the wi^wdin. Page 66. 

As the foreat maiden should."** 

In the pp.re hunter etatp, the division of labor between the man and wife .is not 
so unequal as many suppose. 

" Where, then, the whole duty and labor of providing the means of subsist- 
fece, ennobled by danger and courage, falls upon the man, the woman naturally 
Biaks in importance, and is a dependent drudge. But she is not therefore, I sup- 



501 NOTES, 



pose, so v.ery mfserable, nor, relatively, so very abjept ; she is sure of protection ; 
sure of maintenance, at least while the man has it ; sure of kind treatment; sure 
that she will never have her children taken from her but by death ; sees none 
better off than herself, and it Is evident that in such a state the appointed and 
necessary share of the woman is the household work, and all other domestic 
labors." Mrs. Jamison, in Winter Studies and Summer Rambles. 

From unpublished notes by the late Mr. W. H. Clarke, of Chicago, whose 
acquaintance with leading Indians of the West extended over many years, I am 
permitted to make some extracts. He was well acquainted with Mrs. School- 
craft, to whom the world is greatly indebted for her praiseworthy efforts to pre- 
serve the legendary lore of the Indians. Herself of Indian lineage, and spending 
the greater part of a long life among her people, her statements cannot but be 
taken as trustworthy. 

In answer to questions as to the condition of the Indian women, she said, " It 
vas better than that of the white woman, taking into consideration the differ- 
ences between the races. That is to say, although on accovmt of many inevitable 
causes, the Indian woman is subjected to m-^uy hardships of a physical nature, 
yet her position, compared to that of man, is higher and freer than that of the 
white woman." 

"OMr. C!" said she, "why will they look only upon one side? they either 
exalt the Red Man into a demi-god, or degrade him into a beast. They say he 
compels his wife to do all the drudgery, while he does nothing but hunt and 
amuse himself ; forgetting that upon his activity and powers of endurance as a 
hunter depends the support of his family." 

Note 23, •* She is. of my noble people Page 66, 

Ongue Honwe — tliat is well." 

The term, Ongue Honwe,— a people surpassing all others— that the Iroquois 
proudly applied to themselves, being older than the discovery of the continent 
by Europeans, did not refer to them ; but denoted a people surpassing all other 
Ired men. In that sense it was probably strictly true. 

Note 24. " No garden lilies undfijiled, Page 73. 

No sweets their fragrance may possess, 

Surjjass the roses of the wild— 
The beauty of the wilderness." 

Had not the writer, in his casual intercourse with the Indians, seen among 
them maidens of surpassing beauty, comparing favoi'ably with the most lovely 
maidens of the White Race, he would hardly have ventured to give expression to 
what will probably seem to many as existing only in the pictures of an exalted 
Imagination. 

Fredrika Bremer, in her Homes of the New World, says of an Indian maiden ^ 
Bhe saw in Minnesota: "She was so brilliant and of such unusual beauty that 
Bhe literally seemed to light up the whole room as she entered. Her shoulderf . 
were broad and round, an4 Ijier carriage drooping, as is usual with Indian women, 



"1 



NOTES, 3^ 



who are early accustomed to carry burdens on their backs ; but the beauty of the 
countenance was so extraordinary tl.at I cannot but think that if such a face were 
to be seeu in one of the drawing-roonis of the fashionable world, it would tbe^e 
be regarded as the type of a beauty hitherto unknown. It was the \vild beauty of 
the forest, at the same time melancholy and splendid," 

Mrs, Jamison also speaks in high terms of Indian women she met. Of Mrs, 
Bchoolcrait she says : " Her genuine refinement and simplicity of manners, and 
native taste for literature, are charmiug. * * * While in conversation with her, 
new Ideas of the Indian's character suggest the.mselves. * * She is proud of hec. 
Indian origin, * * But there is a nielaucholy and pity in her voice when speak- 
ing of them [her people], as if she did indeed consider them a doomed race." 

Of another Indian woman she says ; '< Though now no longer young, and the 
mother of twelve children, she is one of the handsomest Indian women I have 
yet seen. * * Her daughter, Zah-gah-see-ga-quay— the sunbeams breaking 
through a cloud — is a very beautiful girl, with eyes that are a warrant for her 
poetic name." 



Note 25. ".l6^ youth and imtii'en 7nai/, did seek Page 74. 

Some token of h^r happier faU.^'' 

" Even ths Indian girls dream \.t times that they will become mighty runners, 
and evince a pride iu excelling in this art, Uke the men. A case occurred during 
my stay at La Poiate. A wurlike maiden suddenly appeared, who boasted of 
having taken a Sioux scalp, and she was led iu triumph from lodge to lodge. 

" I was told that a suijerannuated female had appeared to this girl, who was 
now nineteen, during the period of her great fasts and dreams of life, who 
prophesied to her that she would become the greatest runner of her tribe, an4 
thus gain the mightiest warrior for husband. 

" I must remark here, as indeed every reader will easily conjecture, that the 
fasting dreams of the Indian girls chiefly aUude to the subject of paarriage. 
Thrice — so said the prophetic vaice— she would join in an expedition against the 
Sioux, and thrice save herself by her speed of foot. In running home, the war- 
riors of her tribe would 8triv3 ty putstrip her, but she woidd in two first cam- 
paigns outstrip everybody. * * On t!.e return from the third campaign, how- 
ever, a young Ojib-wa would race with her^ an^ conquer her^ and she woiUd theu 
be married to him. 

"The girl had made her first war expedition this year, SJ^e had proceeded 
with the wai-nors of her tribe intq the enemy's camp, raised the scalp of a 
wotmded Sioux on the battle-field, and had run straight homo for several days, 
thijs bringing the first news of the victory, which greatly augmented her renpwn. 
* * She was pointed out to everyone as the heroine of the day and of the island; 
and probably ere this some yoimg warrior has run a race with her, in which she 
Wii§pnlyto9Feadyta|}e4©fe»t^," ii'itefii tSamif ^ fSi^ 



"306 



NOTES, 



Note 26. ^'Love beikon fiom Jwi ku'ding place.'''' Page 75. 

" The wife of the hunter has the entire coutiol of the wigwam and all its tem- 
poralitiee. To each person who ia a member ^^i the lodge family is assigned a 
fixed seat, or habitual abiding place, wliich is calk>d ah.')ino8, * * If the son is 
married and brings his bride home, the mother assigns the bride her fi&W// OS. 
This is done by spreading one of the finest skins for her seat, and no one besides 
her liiisband ever sits there. * * In this niaii:icr the personal rights of each 
individual are guarded. The female i.5 pimctilioua as to her ov.-n, so that perfect 
order is maintained." II. r.. Cchoolciiaft, Vol. II. p. 63. 

Note 27. "Or jiluclced Ike Atifumr's ripe^efl cfny, Page 77. 

Asmeclandfdforlnd'Ktittnaiil."'' 

"It is well known that corn-planting and coi-n-gr (hcring, at least among all the 
Btill uncolonized tribes, are left entirely to the wo:^. ^a. It is not generally known, 
perhaps, that this labor is not compulsory, a:.d that it is assumed by the women 
as a just equivalent, in their view, for tiie o..eroua and coatinuoiis labor of the 
other sex, in providing meat, and skins for clotiiing, by tlio chase, and in de- 
fending their villages against their enemies. * * A {^;ood Indian hoiisewlfe deems 
this a part of her prerogative, and prides herself to have a store cf corn to exer- 
cise her hospitality, or duly honor her husba-^-Vi hcjnitality, in the entertain- 
ment of the lodge rjuests." C- c ;.' ', ;). C2. 

Note 28. "To gather its kernels ripe and rjond:" Page 77. 

The wild rice of the north is the Zizania Palifsfr/s, and abotiuds in the shal- 
low waters of the Western lakes and rivers. It forms a dish palatable ai:d nutri- 
tious; and is the principal vegetable food of the Indians where it abounds. It 
; is gathered by the women, who sliove their canoes ymong it, and, bending the 
' ripened heads over the boat, beat out the grain with padtUcs. 

Note 29. "With jHitierd friisf Icr hun'jcr horc I'age 79. 

. Aiul all heroic sacrijia ,'" 

"AU acknowledge their lives to be in the hands of the Great Spirit, feel a con- 

|.. Tiction that all things come from him, that he loves tliem, and that, although he 

f allows them to Bufi"er, he wiU again supply thtm. No people are more ea^y cr 

' less clamorous under suffering of the deepest die, and none are more happy, or 

■ llQore prone lo evince their happiness when prosperous in their affairs. " 

IT. li. SrHOOLCHAiT, A'ol. II. p. 78. 

: NoteSCt. "Orotdydo iie/ai! fo fi>.d Page so. 

[ 'j%e measure meef for ffif/s uicersef'^ 

t « Genius, learning and Christianity change the features of society, and cast 

over it an artificial garment, but its elements continue the same. It need dM 
awaken surprise that the Indian has revealed many of the highest virtues of 



NOTES, SOT 



Ohristiaaized man ; or that in some of the rarest traits in human character, he 
has passed quite beyond hiuii" League of the Iroquois f p. 181. 

Mrs. Schoolcraft says : " 1 have seen among them instances of refined deli- 
cacy of feeling, and traits 6i kindness of heart diffusing itself through the action 
and manners, which I have in vain sought in highly civilized communities. I 
have heard speeches which, had they been made by the sages of antiquity, would 
have been handed down to us with a world's applause; and I have asked myself, 
where is the intrinsic difference between the soul of this red man in his blanket, 
and that of him who is surrounded by all the accidents of education, civilization 
and manners ; are not those noble sentiments— the feeling of the good, the great 
and the beautiful— intuitive?" Unpublished Noted, 

Note 31. "0/i her his tottering footsteps leant." Page 81. 

As an instance of filial affection manifested toward parents, Mr. Schoolcraft 
gives the story of an aged chief, who resided at MichUimaciuao. 

" He lived to be very old, and became so feeble at last that he could not travel 
by land, when spring came on and his people prepared to move their lodge from 
the sugar-camp in the forest, to the open lake shore. * * It was his last winter 
on earth, his heart was gladdened once more by feeling the genial rays of spring, 
and he desired to go with them to behold, for the last time, the expanded lake, and 
inhale its pure breezes. Ha must needs be carried by hand. This act of piety 
was performed by his daughter, then a young woman. She carried him on her 
back from the camp to the lake shore, where they erected their lodge and passed 
their spring, and where he eventually died tad was buried." 

Note 32. "//i royal mantle rich arrayed." Page 86. 

" War shirts, war coats, and mantles for use on ceremonial occasions, are often 
made from the skins of the fiercest and most renowned animals captured in the 
chase. * ♦ They are elaborately wrought and profusely ornamented. * * At the 
treaty Prairie-du-Chien, on the Upper Mississippi, in 1825, a great variety of these 
dresses were exhibited. None, however, exceeded in its majestic style, the robe 
of a Yonkton chief, from the Minnesota river, who was called Wo-ni-ta. * * He 
was clothed in a war-robe of buff-colored buffalo-skin, ornamented with porcu- 
pine quills, brilliantly dyed. This garment reached to his feet." 

H. R. Schoolcraft, Vol. III. p. 67. 

Note 33. ** What wonder h>, though cairn and u'ii^^^^ ' Pa^e90. 

Should feel the round world dance and swim, 

When on him ffent those love-full eyes 
That more than greeting welcomed him f" T . . 

It has been asserted by some writers that love among the North Am6ricim In- 
. dians had no higher expression, between the sexes, than that of anim^ pai^sionii 
While it may be said, with truth, perhaps, that this was its" more usual manifesta- 
tion, their legends very clearly disprove the assumption that the Indian was never 

40 



30S NOTES. 



Inflnenced by the tender passion. He could never have embodied in his mytt(<v 
logical stories a sentiment to which his mind and heait could not respond, and 
that had no existence in his experiences of life. 

So many of the Indian legends are foimded upon the idea of love, as a tender 
and lasting sentiment, existing betAveen the young hunter and the young maiden, 
that it is a little remarkable these writers did not observe the fact. See The Bed 
Lover, The White Stone Canoe, Osseo, and many more. 

Nor is this view wanting in confirmation from well-authenticated incidents, 
among the dwellers in the wig-wam. Mrs. Jamison says : " Some time ago a 
young Chippewa girl conceived a violent passion for a hunter of a different tribe, 
and followed him from his winter hunting-grounds to his own village. He was 
already married, and the wife, not being inclined to admit a rival, drove this 
love-sic^ damsel away, and treated her with the utmost indignity. The girl, in 
desperation, offered herself as a slave to the wife, to carry wood and M-ater, and 
lie at her fe^t,— anything to be admitted within the same lodge and only to look 
upon the gbject Qf her ^fifectjoua," 

Note 34. **Lisiened-^as nnlij woman may, Page 94. 

Upon his deeper thought intent.''^ 

** While at the meal, which is prolonged by cheerful conversation, anecdotes, 
^ and little narratives of personal adventure, the women are among the listeners ; 
and no one, except the aged, ev^r obtrudes a word. The young women and girls 
show that they partake of the festivities by smUes, and are scrupulous to evinoe 
th«tr atteution to th© elder part of the company," 

H. R. Schoolcraft, Vol. II. p. 75. 

Note 35. "Xor her alone keep in thy love,— Page 110. 

Keep him that waits so far auHiy."' 

" That the Indian, without the aid of revelation, should have arrived at a fixed 
belief in the existence of one Supreme Being, has ever been a matter of 8urpri$e 
and adnuration, * * They looked up to him as the author of their being, the 
source of their temporal blessings, and the future dispenser of the felicities of 
their heavenly home. To him they reuclc red coTistaat thanks anl homage for 
the changes of the seasons, the fruits of the earth, the preservation of their lives, 
* ♦ and to him they addressed their prayers for the continuance of his protect- 
ing care." League of the Iroquois, p. 156. 

" Oreat Spirit, Master of our lives ; Great Spirit, Master of all Things both 
visible and invisible; Great Spirit, Master cf other Spirits,, whether Good or 
Evil; command the Good Spirits to favor thy childrieni * * Command the Evil 
Spirit to keep at a distance from them. 

" O Great Spirit, keep up the Strength and Courage of our Warriors, that they 
may be able to stem the Fury of our Enemies. * * O Great Spirit, Gie^t Spirit, 
hear the voice of the Nation, give Ear to all thy Children, and remember them at 
ftUtimes." Lcthontan's Voi/ageg, ]^.d5, 



VOTES, 30^ 



l^ote 36. " With pipe and meat and courtesy P»£^e 111. , 

ijave welcome to his noble guest." 

■'♦One of the most attractive features of Indian society was the spirit of hospi- 
tality by which it was pervaded. Peiiiaps no people ever carried this principlie to 
the same degree of universality, as did the Iroquois. Their houses were not 
only open to each other at all hours of the day, and of the night, but also to the 
wayfarer and the stranger. * * He would surrender his dinner to feed the hun- 
gry, vacate his bed to refresh the weary, and give up his apparel to clothe the 
naked. ♦ * With an innate knowledge of the freedom and dignity of man, he 
has exhibited the noblest virtues of the heart, and the kindest deeds of human- 
ity, in those sylvan retreats, which w;e are wont to look back upon as vacant and 
frightful solitudes." League of the Iroqvois, p. 327. 



Note 37. **Put by his pipe, looked on the maid, Page 113, 

Atid lonely musing, silent gal." 

"There is one custom their men constantly observe ; that if they be sent with 
any message, though it demand the greatest despatch^ or though they bring 
intelligence of any inmiiuent danger, tliey never tell it at their first approach, 
but sit down for u minute or two, at least, In silence, to recollect themselves be- 
fore they speak, that they may not show any degree of fear or surprise, by any 
indecent expressi?u»" lahonlan's Voyages, p. IM, 



^ote 38, ^*For Hayo-wenf-ha, he would bear Page 113. 

The burden of the ripened ears.'^ 

**The man, to signify his wishes, kills a bear with his own hands, and sends a 
pail full of the oil to his mistress. 1 1 she receives the oil, he next attends and 
helps her hoe the corn in her field ; afterward plants her beans ; and when they 
come up he sets poles for them to run upon. In the meantime he attends her 
com, until the beans have run up and entwined themselves about the poles. 
This is thought emblematical of their approaching union and bondage; and they 
then take each other for better or for worse.' 

H. R. SCHOOZ.CBAFT, Vol. V. p. 269, 



Note 89. "Rie snowy leggins sqrtly drew/* P»gel21. 

" The corpse is dressed in its best clothes. It is wrapped In a new blanket, and 
new moeeasifls are put on. The crown-baud, head-dress or frontlet, and feathers, 
are also put on. His war-club and pipe are placed beside him, together with a 
small quantity of Vermillion. * * If a woman, that is about to be interred, she 
is provided with a paddle, a kettle, an apekun^ or carrying strap for the head^ 
and other feQunin« implements." JHdf Vol. II. p. 68» 



310 NOTES. 



Note 40. "0! Km-ha— Father, fare-thee^wetl," PAgeUl. 

" The corpse is laid in public, where all can gather krouod it,, when an addreps 
is made, partly to the spectators, describing the character, of the deceased, ai^d 
partly to the deceased himself, speaking to him as though the ,0c h'ich-ag or eonl 
was still present, and giving directions as to the path he isjiupposed to he aboxit 
to tread in a future state." .•.-,':. • -' JPifJ- . 

" My son, listen once more to the words of thy mother. ThOu wert brought 
into life with her pains. Thou wert nourished with her life* She has attempted 
to be faithful in raising thee up. When thou wert young she loved thee as her 
life. * * Thy friends and relations have gathered about thy body to look upon 
thee for the last time. * * We part now, and you are conveyed from my sight 
But we shall soon meet again. * ♦ Then we shall part no more. Our Ma!:er 
has called you to his home. Thither we follow. _Y(?-//o/"— Speech of a Mother 
over her dead son. League of the Iroquois, p. 175. 

Note 41. **ETiduraii(-e in the mother-breast Page 122. 

Wrought courage in the uetvly born." 

While it is true that it was held a weakness for a mother to give way to an r 
signs of pain during (he trying ordeal of child-birth, it must also be remembere^l 
that women in the savage state are comparatively free from the danger and suf- 
fering incident to civilized Life. 

" Parturition, with the Indian female, is seldoru ;.'. tended with severe or long- 
continued suffering. * * A wife h:i8 been know.u to saily into the adjoining 
forest in quest of dry limbs for fire-wood, and to return to the wigv^'am with her 
new-born child, placed carefully on the bacli-load. * * Their exemption from 
the usual sufferings of child-birth may be said to be the general couditioii of the 
hunter state, and one of the few advantages of it wliich the woman enjoys over 
berxivilized sister." H. K. Sci:ooi.ciJAKT, Vol. II. p. 63. 

Note 42. "What ie there more than home and looef" Page 123. 

•• I have witnessed scenes of conjugal and parental love in the Indian's wigwam 
from which I have often, often thought the educated white man, proud of his 
sui>erior civilization, might learn a useful lesson. When he returns from hunt- 
ing, worn out with fatigue, having tasted nothing since dawn, his wife, if she be 
a good wife, will take off his moccasins and replace them with dry ones, and will 
prepare his game for their repast ; while his children will chmb upon him, and 
he will caress them with all the tenderness of a woman. 

"And in the evening the Indian's wigwam is the scene of the purest domestic 
pleasures. The father will relate for the amusement of the wife, and for the iu- 
Btruction of his children, the events of tlie day's hunt, while they will treasure up 
*very word that falls, and which furnishes them with the theory of the art, the 
practice of which is to become the occupation of their lives." 

Mas. ScHooLCBAFT, Froiii Unpubliiked Notes. 



NOTES, i Sll 



Note 43. "Lit with the mighty Council-flame" Page 138. 

" The government of this unique republic resided wholly in councils. By coun- 
cils all questions were settled, all regulations established, — social, religious, mili- 
tary and polities. The war-path, the chase, the Council-fire ;— in these was the 
life of the Iroquois; and it is hard to say to which of the three he was most de- 
voted." Parkman'8 Jesuits in America. 

Note 44. " Fifth shall in the Council be." Page 160. 

The order of precedence here adopted is that given by Lewis H. Morgan in his 
League of the Iroquois. This author, possessing, as he did, peculiar facilities 
for obtaining a correct knowledge of Iroquois history and traditions, is probably 
correct, though differing with both Clark and Schoolcraft. 

Note 45. **You—as from your homes of old— Page 161. 

From this fairer land expel." 

Tradition informs us that prior to their occupation of central New York the 
Iroquois were located upon the St. Lawrence, in Canada^ and that they lived in 
subjection to the Adirondacks. 

" After they had multiplied in numbers and improved by experience, they made 
an attempt to secure the independent possession of the country they occupied ; 
but having been, in the struggle, overpowered and vanquished by the Adiron- 
dacks, they were compelled to retire from the country to escape extermination." 

League of the Iroquois, p. 5. 

Note 46. 'To the wigwam's mat and shade Page 160. 

How can he again return 
Taking not the little maid." 

** If just and truthful pictures of Indian life were drawn, in connection with 
the civilized population of America, it could not fail to excite a deep interest in 
his fate. What is wanted is to show that the Indian has a heart. That in a state 
of repose from wars, his bosom beats with affection and hope, and fear, precise- 
ly like other varieties of the human race. That he is adhesive and reliable in 
his friendships. That he is true to his promises — simple in his reUances and be- 
liefs. That he is affectionate to his kiudred while they live, and mourns their 
loss in death with an undying sorrow."' 

H. R. Schoolcraft, Vol. 5, p. 410. 

Note 47. " See, his cloudy garments all Page 174. 

Has he takeiifrom the sun." 

" He has taken his garment from before the eun and caused it to shine with 
brightness upon us." i 

See Red Jacket's famous speech to a missionary; Drake's Biography and 
History, p. 98. 



312 NOTES, 



Nolo 48. " fM snowy 2)archment dressed and wrought Page 177. 

From great Skan-o-do's hairy hide." 

" The practice of the Nprth American tribes, of drawing figures and pictures 
oh ekins, trees and various other substances, has been noticed by travelers and 
writers from the earliest times. * * These figures represent ideas— whole ideas, 
—and their relation on a scroll, or bark, or tree, or rock, discloses a continuity qt 
ideas. * * Picture-writing is, indeed, the literature of the Indian. It cannot 
-be interpreted, however rudely, without letting one know what the red to^VK 
thinks and believes." H. R. Schoolcraft, Vol. I. p, 333, 

" They love to speak in a symbolical manner, all their symbols being drawn 

from the realm of nature. * * I once saw a Buffalo hide covered with figures in 

the style of children's drawings, which represented battles, treaties of peace, 

« and other such events ; the sun and the moon, trees and mountains, and rivers, 

"fish and birds, and all kiuda of animals, having their part in the delineations,'* 

Jlonies of the New World, p. 47, 



Note 49. ^* In cares of Stafc, at^ woman should Page 179, 

Should womatt hare her part and place." 

" The history of the world shows that it is one of the tendencies of bravery tq 
cause woman to be respected, and to assume her proper rank and influence in sot 
ciety. This was strikingly manifest in the history of the Iroquois. They ar^ 
the only tribes in America, north or south, so far as we have any accounts, who 
gave to women a conservative power in their deliberations. The Iroquois ma-, 
trons had their representatives in the public corinoils ; and they exercised a negai 
tive, or •yvhat we call a veto power, in the important question of the declaratiorj 
of war. They had the right also to interfere in bringing about a peace." 

H. R. Schoolcraft, Vol. III. p. 195. 

Tradition says that at the great Council, which resulted in the formation of the 
League, the women attended, and it preserves the name of Ja-gosa-sa — The 
Wild Cat — as a woman of imusual power that took part in its deliberations ; an4 
to whose insight and judgment, as wo may infer, is due the Uberal provisions of 
this forest-government in favor of the equal rights of the sexes. 

Jfote 50. "//t her all titled lineage,— Page 179, 

Through her the sachem's kingly line." 

♦* Not the least remarkable among their institutions, was that which confined 
the transmission of the titles, rights and property in the female line to the ex-, 
elusion of the male. * * If the Deer tribe of the Cayugas, for example, received 
a pachemship at the original distribution of these offices, the descent of such 
title being limited to the female line, it could never pass out of the tribe. * * 
By the operation of this principle, also, the certainty of descent in the tribe of 
their prtncipal chiefs, was secured by a rule infallible ; for the child must bo th§. 
»on Qt its mother, although not necessarily of the mother's husband." 

Leagu* Of the Jroquola^ \>. 84, 



NOTES. 313 

NoteOl. ** The covenant and record holds,— Page 181. ik \ 

Deed of that noble Brotherhood.^^ \ » 

.- . ■ . 3 

Among the most sacred heir-looms and treasures still in possession »f the sa- 
chems of the Iroquois, are those wampum-belts, into which the terms and con- v 
ditions of the League were " talked " at the time of its formation. ; 

Although handed down from sachem to sachem, from generation to generar 
tlon, their mnemonic pages are still pregnant with meaning — still hold in their 
mystic symbols thestory of the formation of this remarkable League; and are 
the only repositories remaining of the laws and principles upon which it waq 
founded. •' \ 

That these belts are wrought upon some uniform system of recording ideas is. , fr 

evident from the fact that, while in the possession of widely separated tribes, \^ 

although differing as to certain details, their interpretations are all alike as to.th§ "S? ^?j 

fundamental facts and principles of the alliance. ,l-:^\ 

Note 52. "Into the wisest sachem's hand Page 182. -■j 

lie gave the miqlity instrument," 

•'As the laws and usages of the Confederacy were intrusted to the guardian- 
Bhip of such strings, one of the Onondaga sachems, Ilo-no-we-na-to, was consti- 
tuted "Keeper of the Wampum," and was required to be versed in its iuterprer 
tatiou," League of the Iroquois, p. 121. 

Note 53, *''Vaa wide outspread the mighty feast Page 187, 

To feed a thousand hungry men." 

" Some of their feasts were on a scale of extravagant profusion. A vain, am* '^ 

bitious host threw all his substance into one entertainment, inviting a whole 4^ 

village, and perhaps several neighboring villages also. In the winter of 1635, j," 

there was a feast at the village of Contareea, where thirty kettles were on the *• 

fire, and twenty deer and four bears were served up." , ^ 

Parkman's Jesuits in America^ 



Note 54. "</ nil the part:, tliey chose tlie best Page 188. 

And unto Hayo-went-ha bore." 

When a great feast is given, all the adult members of a village are invited with- 
out distinction. 

" When the time arrives, each one, according to ancient custom, takes his dish 
and spoon, and proceeds to the entertainer's lodge. The victuals are served up 
with scrupulous attention that each receives a portion of the best parts, accord* 
ing to his standing and rank in the village." 

H. Jl. Schoolcraft, Vol. II. p. 75, 



1 - 





314: XOTES. 



Note 55. **Then forth the waiting pip<i was brought." Page 189. 

" Wherever the Indian goes, in peace and war^ and whatever he doe8,.his pipe 
is his constant companion. He draws consolation Irom it in hunger, waut and 
misfortune." And when he is prosperous and happy, " it is the pipe to which 
he appeals, as if every puff of the weed were au.ohlation to the Great Spirit." 

Jbidj \pl. 11. p. G9,. 

Note 56. "Still piling high the stake and bet Page 189. 

Of blankets^ weapons, tHnket»—alC." '^ ■' ~ ■'■'■ - 

"Of all the Indian's social sports the finest and grandest is the ball play. I 
might call it a noble game, and I am surprised how these savages attain such 
perfection in it. Nowhere in the world, excepting, purnaps, among the English 
and some of the ItaUan races, is the graceful auJ md.uly {lam^i ol ball played so 
passionately, and on so large a scale. They often play village against village, or 
tribe against tribe. Hundreds of players asis.'mble, and the wares and goods 
ofifered as prizes often reach a value of a thousand dollars, or more." 

A//tA/ Garni, Y). S3. 

"i^ote 57. '^Flee in frembiing terror, irhen Page 201. . 

Onthe war-path hot.il they .sr^ 
Aquan-uschi-oni men." 

Golden says : " I have been told by old men in New England, who remembered 
the time when the Mohawks made war on their Indians, that as soon as a single 
Mohawk was discovered in their country, their Indians raised a cry from hill to 
hill, *A Mohawk ! a Mohawk ! ' upon which they flod hbe sheep before wolves, 
without attempting to make the least rcsiHtaucc." 

Not«58. '^Froni txainple wine and good Page 203. .;. 

Sliall the;/ to all great neas grow,— 

To a Might u Brotherhood; 
And all men be bettered .so." 

'* It is a memorable fact that the Iroquois wero so strongly impressed with the 
wisdom of their system of confederation, that tliey publicly recommended a 
eimilar Um'on to the British Colonies. In the important conferences at Lancas- 
ter, in 1774, Cannas-sa-te-go, a respected sachem, expressed this view to f.ie 
commissioners of Pennsylvania, Virgiuia, and IMaryland: ' Our wiso f ore'athers 
established union and amity between the Five Nations. This has giveu us great 
weight and authority with our neighboring nations. We are a poweWul confed- 
ei^cy, and by observing the same methods our wi8,e forefathers have taken, you 
wiU acquire fresh strength and power. Therefore I counsel you, whatever befalls 
you, never to fall out with one another.' 

" No sage of the bright days of Greece could have more tnUy apprehended the 
Becret of their own power and success." 

H. lU Schoolcraft, Vol. III. p. 183. 



NOTES. 315 



Note 59. '■*ni8 (fishes all were carved and wrought Page230« 

'\ ""''•"''"'' ''*^^ 

'"^ "'*'■""'" The trophies front this battle broughU' 

/'"Most distinguished,, however, above all others, east or west, was a leader of 
great courage and wisdom and address, called Ot-o-tar-ho; and when they pro- 
posed to form a league, this person, who had inspired dread, and kept himself 
retired, was anxiously sought. He was found sitting in a swamp, smoking his 
pipe, and rendered completely invulnerable. by living snakes. * * His dishes 
were made of the skulls of enenSies, whom he had slain in battle. 

'* Him, when they had duly approached with presents, and burned tobacco in 
friendship, in their pipes, by way of frankincense, they placed at the head of 
their league, as its presiding officer. * * . And his, name, like that of King Arlliuc 
of the Round Table, or those of the Paladins of Charlemagne, was used after his 
death as an exemplar of glory and honor ; while, like . that of Caesar, it became 
perpetuated as the official title of the presiding officer. * * It is said that the 
thirteenth Ot-o-tar-ho reigned at Onondaga when America was discovered." 

Notes on the Iroquois. 

Note 60. ** A, fiery sonUhat most coi'hl swaij Page 231. 

All 2>assio/is with the iniqht of speech.' 
"For readiness to perceive the position of the Red Race as civilization gathered 
around them, curtailing their hunting-grounds, and hemming up their path in 
various ways ; for quickness of apprehension, and breadth of forecast, and appo- 
Biteness and sharpness of reply, no one of the leading groups of tribes in North 
America has equaled the Seneca Orator, Red Jacket, or Sargo-ye-wat-ha." 

H. R. Schoolcraft, Vol. III. p. 198. 

Note 61. " Who weakly owned no brother's God, Page 231. 

Nor less adjudged for wisdom thence.'^ 
" He had no doubt that Christianity was good for white people, but the red men 
were a diflferent race and required a different religion. He believed that Jesus 
Christ was a good man, and that the whites should all be sent to hell for kiUing 
him ; but the red men, having no hand in his death, were clear of that crime. 
The Saviour was not sent to them, the atonement not made for them, nor the 
Bible given to them. 

. " If the Great Spirit had intended they should be Christians, he would havQ. 

made his revelations to them as well as the whites; and not having made it, It, 

was clearly his will that they should continue in the faith of their fathers." . .-^ 

Campbell's Indian Tribes of North America* ,, 

Note 62. *'dn battle-field, in Council-hall, Page 232. - ^, 

Alike created to command." 
" The Oneida sachem, Sken-an-do, electrified the moral community when » 
hundred years had cast their frosts around his noble and majestic brow, by views 
of the tenure and destinies of life, which were worthy of the lips of Job." 

H. R. Schoolcraft, Vol. ill. p. 198. 
iV 



NOTEti, 



Note 63, ** Grandfather wise, Page 277. 

/. • . Do stretch yourself ~Ne-me-sho brave i '■" 



An objects in the material world being endowed, in the Indian's mind, with a 
living and intelligent Bpirit, birds, reptiles and beasts, and even inanimate ob- 
jects are often addressed as brother or grandfather. The trees of the forest, the 
BtOnes that lie along his pathway, have eai-s open to his prayers, and whose 
power he invokes in the hour of peril. 

Note 64. "0«/* hearts are good, hut do vot seek Page 292. 

For more to get our little land." 

" Our country was given to us by the Great Spirit, who gave it to us to hunt 
upon, to make our cornfields upon, to live upon, and to make down our beds 
upon when we die. And he would never forgive us should we bargain it away." 
r-Speech of Me-tey-a at Chicago in 1821. Ford's Histonj and Biography. 

"My reason teaches me that land cannot be sold. The Great Spirit gave it to 
his children to live upon, and to cultivate so far as is necessary for their sub- 
sistence ; and so long as they occupy and cultivate it, they have the right to the 
soil; but if they voluntarily leave it, then any othej: people have a right to settle 
upon it. Notbing caa be sold but such things as can be carried away." 

pLAcn Hawk, 



317 



VOCABULARY. 



1 



A-QUAN-U&-CHI-0 ' NI, 

Arose' -A, 
Be-zhu', 

ChEE ' -MAUN, 

Chebi-a' bos, 
Da-hin'-da, 

do-di-ah'.to, 

dun-ka-doo', 

E-GHE-A' 

E-wa-yea', 
es-con aw ' -baw, 

GiTCH ' E GU ' MEE, 
GUSH-KE ' -WAU, 
I-A'-GO, 

JlK-ON'-SIS, 

Jit'-sho, 
Kabi-bon-ok'-ka, 

KaH ' -KAH, 
KaH-SAH ' -QIT, 

Key-oshk', 

Kax'-Xa, 
Ke-neu ' , 
Ke-wau^nee', 

Kee-way'-din, 

Ke-KAH-DAH ' -NONG^ 

Ki-ha'-dee, 

Ko -KO-KO'-HO, 

JIue'-hah;, 



The beaver. 

United People. 

The squirrel. 

The panther. 

A canoe. 

The Ruler in the Land of Souls. 

The bull-frog. 

The trout. 

The bittern. 

Yes. 

Lullaby. 

The Mississippi, 

Lake Superior. 

The darkness. 

A great story-teller. 

The pike. 

The fox. 

The North Wind. 

The crow. 

Winter. 

The sea-gull 

Maid. 

The War-eagle. 

The prairie-hen. 

The Home-wind. 

The lizard. 

A river. 

The owl. 

Hy father. 



318 



VOCABULARY. 



r 



KU-HA ' -GO, 

kun-ta-soo ' , 

kwan-0-shaish ' -ta, 
kwan-run-ge-a ' -gosh, 
Kwa-ra-re', 

Leaf-Moojj, 

Ma'-ma, 

Hahng, 

Me -da, 

Me-sha-way', 

MnD-JE-KE ' -WIS, 
MlNNE-WA-WA, 
MO'-SA, 
Ne-BA-NAW ' -BAIGS, 

Ne'-gig, 
Ne-ne-moosh ' -A, 

O-'ah, 

Ogh-wk-se ' , 

OgH-NE ' -TA, 
0-JIS-HON ' -DA, 
O'-KAH, 
0-kWA-HO', 
O-ME'-ME, 

On'-gue Hon -WE, 
O-nok'-sa, 

O ' -NUST, 

O-WAH-AI ' -gut, 
PaU-PUK-KEE ' -WIS, 
PUCK-WUDJ'IES, 

Bah ' -WAH, 
Saw-saw-quan', 
scho-ta-sa'-min, 



The forest. 

The Game of Plum-stones. 

Great snake. 

Great sturgeon. 

The wood-pecker. 

May. 

The red-heade<J wood-pecker. 

The loon. 

Medicine Man, or Priest. 

The elk. 

The West Wind. 

A pleasant s>iiad, as of the wind 

The moose. 

Water Spirits. 

The otter. 

Swect'.:eart. 

The wind. 

The pheasant. 

The pine tree. 

The stars. 

The s^ow. 

The wolf. 

The pigeon. 

Men surpassing all bthers. 

The bass. 

The Indian corn, Maize. 

Death. 

A trickster. 

The little men; Fairies. 

The perch. 

The death-whoop 

The bean. 



VOVABULABT 



319 



Se-bow-ish'-a^ 
Seg-wun', 
Shaw' -SHAW, 
Show-on-da'-see, 
Soan-ge-ta'-ha, 
Shin'-oe-bis, 
Skan-o'-do, 

SO'-RA, 
SO-HA-UT', 

So-ha-hi ' , 
Ta'-wis, 

Tl-O'-TO, 
TO'-TEM, 

Unk-ta-he', 
Uno'-wul, 

Wa ' -BUN An ' DNG, 

Wa-be-wa'-wa, 

Wa-won-ais'-sa, 

Wa-wa, 

Wamp'-um, 

Wau ' -bos, 

Wau-be-zee', 

Wo-ne'-da, 
Wa-zha-wand', 
Yek'-wai, 

YO'NOND, 
YO-NON'-TO, 
YO-YO-HON'-TO, 
YONG'-WB, 

* The outer column 



A rivulet. 
The Spring. 
The swallow. 
The South Wind. 
The strong-hearted. 
The diver, or grebe. 
The deer 
The duck. 
The turkey. 

The outlet of the Onondaga Lake. 
The snipe. 
Cross Lake. 

The Indian's Heraldic emblems. 
The God of water. 
The turtle. 
The Morning Star. 
The white goose; 
The whippoorwill. 
The wild goose. 

Strings of beads, also woven into 
The hare. [belts. See Note 38 
The swan. 
The Moon. 

The Maker of the World. 
The bear. 
A mountain. 
A hill. 
A stream. 
Woman, 
mostly Algonquin, the inner Iroquois. 



' ^ 



,.: ART LIFE 

AND 

OTHER POEMS, 

BY BENJAMIN HATHAWAT. 

Second Thousand Revised. 

^- — :o: 

S. C. GRIGGS d; CO., CHICAGO. 
Pbice $1.00, Full Gilt, $1.25. 

OPINTOXS OF THE PRESS. 

"A new book by a new author, at least new to us, but one who gives us poepia 

of a pure character and of a high order A book of greater poetio 

merit has not appeared for years past." — St. Louis Christian Advocate. 

*' 'Art^Lifo and Other Poems ' ; almost places Mr. Hathaway on an equal stand- 
ing with the most popular poets of the country." — Chicago Times. 

" Some of the shorter lyrics would do credit to famed pens." — Bostpn Traveler* 

" While we should pass many of these poems by as unattractive at a first glance, 
a little peep here and there convinces us, that the writer is not only possessed of 
the true inspiration, but that he is competent to express his thoughts in felicit- 
pus language." — Iiiter-Oceaii. 

" The reading public avIU find it amply fit to hold its place among American 
poems." — Qaincy Whig. 

•* His name is a new one in the literary world, but if this little book is an index 
of his power, it is destined to become widely known."— Peo/ia Transcript. 

** . , His writings indicate talent of a high order. There is much true poetry- 
beautiful thought in beautiful language— in the book." — Jacksonville Journal* 

•'Many of the poems are gems, and contain passages that would do credit to 
Dryden, whom his style somewhat resembles." — Bay City Daily Tribune. 

♦* The author of this volume has poetic genius. There are many passages, in 
different poems, of surpassing beauty." — St. Louis Central BajHist. 

" The collection will be very welcome to those who love quiet, home and fire^ 
side poetry.^'^-Cleveland Herald, 

" Mr. Hathaway has undoubtedly poetic inspiration and a broad and fertile im- 
agination. . . . His poems are of a class which show cultiire and genius, and 
have the nierita of originality, fervor, imagination and truth." — Sacramento 
JRecQtii Union^ 



0PT2fI0XS OF THE PRESS. 



^^ Matured and finished in Construction.'' — N. C. Independent. 

"This is a volume of poems by a ne\v poet— and we use this uam« iu its true 
flpiritual and artistio sense. Tlie author starts np like a bird from 8om?i wood- 
land seclusion -soaring on strojg wings and singing new songs, and he must 
attract attention. ... If a critical reader wsre to open the book carelessly »t 
any page and read a poem, his interest would inevitably be awakened to such ati 
extent that he wo -lid turu to the title-page to discover the author. There h^ 
would find an uulzaowu name iw literat\:re, and he wo\ild be Infinitely eurpHsPd. 
Then in the spirit of a discoverer he would read every poem in t.\o. book and cott* 
tiuually wonder where this swoet and accomplished singer could have been hiding 
himself so long. . . . Hathaway is;Qot a crude versifier. He has been long in 
study and practice somewhere. " H] is a master of versification and embodies lils 
thought in beautiful forms. They are new forms too, and not fantastical either. 
The flow of the verses is always in p?r.\»ct harmony M'ith the poetic idea. They 
sometimes come in torrents aud swee^) into an expanse of broad thought, which 
mirrors the calm of nature and th3 repose of the sympathizing soul that is sing- 
ing its song for relief from its fullu'ss of music and power. The boolj is a 
hymned prayer for power, arfd the 8n')stance of the prayer is work, Tha artistic 
longing, the potent as^ji/atipi;i,^4s.^^r^.>;'3d in triia soag, 'Art-Life' is in the 
key of Byron's 'Childi Harold,' si fii* tiu r2.1^ctive pissages cau form a paral- 
lel. The several 'Voices from *Na^ar9' aro iu S.ielley's purely spiritual tone. 
Thus these songs of a now poet-te?Elinda0ue of th j qualities of some of the old 
Biugers, whose voices for.:!ver echo jy our f irs, Au'l this genuine singer of Lit- 
tle rrairlo T.ondo, I.ir£'.r!jauj''v~li''certain!/ be heurd f.-c:u again." — St. Louis 
Rej)iiblican» «. \ 

•*A Michlgau ^>o<^/V v.-oi'wiyi>f tl:c'iiamc.'" — Grand Hapids Etening Post. 

"Throughout these records of a quiet coimtry life, are scattered gems of 
poetry, thought and sentiment that will well repay i^erusal and possession of the 
volume. A'fyi'C't ramble or an aimless stroll upon tJie beach would be enriched 

by the companionship which many of tliese short poems might furnish 

One Bentimejitrqiis through all the poems— the glory and reward of labor— de- 
velopment, — Art taken in its broadest sense, — Creation Love is 

the inspiration of Art, and Art the destined means for the attainment of perfect- 
ness." — Port Huron Times, 

i.j-- 

" While it may be too soon to say that a new poet has appeared, it is very cer- 
tain that the poems comprising this volume are of more than ordinary merit. 
They are characterized by smoothness of versification, a felicity of expression 
elegance of language and beauty of imagery. Some of the dciicriptive i:)oems 
would do credit to poets of established reputation, so clear and beautiful are the 
pictures presented ; while others display a vigor of thought and expression quite 
rare iu the poetry of the day. The poems, while good in themselves, are a prouj* 
Jse of better to come." — Evening Wisconsin, 



